Indiana Jones and the Eternal Crypt
by Shaunmc
Summary: Indiana Jones has discovered many strange things in his travels, but none so strange as a blue London police box sealed in a 3000 year old Cambodian pyramid. But even stranger is the bizarre little wisp of a man who stumbled out of it. What happens when the greatest scientific mind in the universe meets the greatest adventurer of all time? Find out in this crossover.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: The Sisters of Death**

* * *

A heavy afternoon heat hung oppressively over the forest canopy with no breeze to brush it away. The shrill whine of the cicadas cut through the air and rose high above the forest awning which sheltered the thicket below. Dense canopy sprawled in every direction as a carpet of lush, vibrant jade. Yet, even in its midst, the running mat of green was interrupted as a most peculiar hill rose from the heart of the forest. It was smaller than the other hills, which could be seen in the distance. And it had four long, regular, sloped sides which had long ago been reclaimed by the forest… a pyramid!

And so it sat for untold thousands of years. The jungle slowly reclaiming it, the wishes of its masters long lost as the petty trifles of men often are. Though on this peaceful day its solemn slumber was disturbed as something like thunder rocked its canopy under a clear blue sky. The fowl of the trees flocked in fright of it and even the cicadas were silent, if only for a time. But this was not the work of nature, nor of the thunder god the pyramid was built to revere. This great calamity was the work of men.

Far beneath the canopy, at the base of the pyramid, a base camp had been cut into the thicket. Further up the pyramid three men huddled behind any boulder or pile of rubble large enough to shelter them from the blast. They emerged as the smoke cleared and stepped forward to inspect their work. The entrance to the pyramid had partially collapsed from the blast, but it was mostly clear all the same.

"We've done it, sir," the youngest of their party exclaimed excitedly. "We made it in the temple. The treasure is ours!"

"Son, we just opened the door," their employer said dismissively. "Don't count your chickens until they've hatched."

"Now there are chickens, sir?"

"It's just an expression, son," their employer said with a laugh. "We're not inside until you boys get that debris out of the way."

"Yes, sir. We do as you say."

"And for the last time, stop calling me 'sir'," he said, replacing the fedora upon his head. "Call me Dr. Jones."

For nearly three months Indy had been on the trail of a set of ancient Cambodian idols. The locals called them the Morâna Pheap Srèy, the _Sisters of Death_. As the legend went, three demon spirits were cast to Earth by the Gods of Angkor. The sisters, being master tricksters in their own mind, set a plan to prank the god Vishnu. However, the prank went horribly wrong and Vishnu's son was maimed in the process. Vishnu chased them to Earth and banished them there, turning them to stone so that they may spend eternity weeping over their own poor judgment.

It was pure fantasy, of course. The whole story was naught but a mongrel mix of Hinduism, Buddhism and a healthy does of local tribal superstition. But the idols themselves were real enough. While the East India Company had only a limited and spasmodic interest in Cambodia during the mid 17th century, a Scottish trader by the name of Shaw McDuff was rumored to have had contact with the artifacts. Word had it that while on his way south from Samraong he stumbled upon the ancient temple of Angkor Wat and chose to camp there.

Against the better judgment of his guides, he explored the ruins and soon came upon a set of stone statues. Thinking them as little more than baubles for sale, he loaded them onto his caravan and set out at first light. However, as the tales of those in his procession reached his ears, he began to be taken in by the locals and their colorful stories. And so, even having been rumored to have had an experience with the artifacts themselves, he stopped on his meandering path and sealed them in a pyramid. He said not where but that they were in a pyramid East of Sandan which had been swallowed by the forest.

It was little more than hearsay and conjecture from that point, but Indy followed whatever sporadic crumbs wherever they lay. And now, nearly 300 years later, he stood on the very threshold where the sisters had been dropped so many years before.

After arriving in the capitol, Phnom Penh, Indy recruited two men to assist him. The older, Bourey, was familiar with the legends and acted as a guide. The younger, Nhean, was little more than a hired hand. Of all the men he tried recruiting they were the most knowledgeable. They were the most trustworthy. They were the most hardworking. And, of all the men he tried recruiting, they were the only ones who didn't leave their drinks on the table when he mentioned the Sisters.

And so, with his employees in tow, he made his way north by steamboat to Tonle Sap Lake and followed one of its capillaries North and East until he reached the town of Sandan. From there it was better than a week long trek into the jungle before they found the pyramid. It was actually a fairly quiet journey, all things told. And this, above all else, filled Indy with dread. His experience had taught him that this was about the time the floor gave out beneath you. Sometimes literally.

Now Bourey and Nhean were hard at work clearing the rubble of Shaw McDuff's shattered handiwork. When the rubble was cleared Indy approached the entrance and carefully peered inside. Bourey and Nhean rested against a stand of rubble and pulled some cigarillo's out of their packs. Bourey lit his with his lighter and then offered a light to Nhean, who accepted it gladly. It was a steel flint lighter he had managed to grift off some army general a few years back. They had been smoking those things ever since Phnom Penh and it was beginning to grate on Indy. The cigarillo's were pungent, acrid and their smoke seemed to linger for an unusually long time. For the amount the pair consumed half their packs must have been smokes.

"Why do you two smoke those things," Indy asked.

"Sir… Dr. Jones, they keep the predators away," Bourey said. He had removed a small leather bound journal from his pack and wrote in it as he smoked.

"Oh, yeah? Well there weren't any predators on the boat, were there?"

Bourey and Nhean said nothing in response, only laughing at their employers discomfort. Ignoring their laughter, Indy set down his pack and removed a small torch. He held it out to Bourey who lit it with his lighter.

"Okay, follow me," Indy said, concentrating down the corridor. "And put those things out before you do."

Bourey and Nhean pinched out their cigarillos, placed them back in their pack and followed Indy down the dark, cramped tunnel. They followed the tunnel to a set of steep stairs which cut down into the pyramid. As they descended the air became very close and musty. At the bottom of the stair the corridor straightened out and became adorned with antechambers running off to either side. Near the end of the pyramid appeared to be a shrine of some type. A shaft in the ceiling allowed streams of daylight to flood the chamber and every manner of creeping plant had wound their way inside.

"Touch nothing," Indy warned. "You do what I do. You step where I step."

The pair nodded their agreement as they followed. But after a few paces in the near dark Bourey stumbled in to Nhean as he tripped on something underfoot. Indy turned with a start as Bourey let out a surprised cry. There, lying at his feet, was the corpse of a man. Not a full corpse. Only dust, bones and tatters of cloth hanging between them.

"Stand back! Let me have a look."

Carefully Indy examined the walls, floor and ceiling where the corpse lay. He could see no trap, or if there was then this poor devil obviously sprung it first. He knelt beside the body and examined the clothing. Though they were in rags they were surprisingly modern. Even in tatters he could make out a shirt, shoes and the type of khaki trousers that they all wore. He even saw what appeared to be the remains of a pack beneath the body.

Beside the body, laying near its opened palm, was Bourey's lighter. Without a thought Indy ignored the thick layer of dust on it and handed it back to him.

"Here, you dropped this."

"No, Dr. Jones," Bourey said. "I didn't."

Without a word he pulled his lighter from his pocket and held it for Indy to see. Indy looked to the lighter in his own hand now, noticing for the first time the heavy layer of dust set upon it. He brushed off the dust and held it up to Bourey's to inspect. They were identical. The metal. The inscription. Even down to the scratches on the case. The only difference was the tarnishing, which was far greater.

"It must belong to him, Dr. Jones."

"It can't belong to him," Indy said, examining the body more closely. "This body must be 300 years old _at least_. Maybe even 350."

Impatiently Indy reached beneath the body and removed the remains of the pack. When he did a strange metal object slid across the floor. It was a combination of black and rust red and bore a strangely familiar shape. He picked it up and it appeared to be a revolver, like the one each of them carried. He opened the chamber, which took a little hammering since it had all but rusted shut, and spied the remnants of 5 rounds and one empty chamber. Playing a hunch, he gently lifted the skull of the man and it came free in his hands. Peering underneath he saw a bullet hole in the pallet and the cranial cavity beyond.

"This poor devil ate his own gun," he said, setting the skull aside. "He killed himself with a weapon that he shouldn't even have for nearly 300 years."

Hastily he dumped the remains of the pack on the ground. There wasn't much left. Mostly the tattered remains of old cigarillo cartons and a book. A small, leather bound journal. Gingerly Indy picked the book up, taking care that it didn't disintegrate in his hands. He looked up at Bourey who for the first time had grown noticeably nervous, having recognized the volume. Indy was about to unbind it and read its last entry when he was distracted by a noise from further afield.

From down the hall, in one of the antechambers to their right, came a type of grinding. Or perhaps more appropriately a type of strange, mechanical wheezing. It grew in pitch and intensity until it seemed to fill the cramped space in which they now holed. It rose in crescendo until finally it climaxed in a resounding thud which reverberated around them and cause the cut stone above their head to shift slightly, showering them with dust.

Upon hearing the noise Indy's first instinct was not to run. Running often made things worse. Instead he stood perfectly still and waited uneasily for the noise to pass, encouraging his employees to do the same. If there was one other thing his experience had taught him it was that strange mechanical noises in old ruins were never, _ever_ a good thing. But after the noise had passed he pressed on slowly, placing the journal in his pack, and beckoned for the others to follow a few steps behind.

Carefully he crept along the corridor, checking each antechamber as he went. Finally, at about his fourth chamber in, he saw one of the strangest out of place artifacts he had ever seen. Before his eyes and as bold as brass stood none other but a large blue box, the words "Police Public Call Box" in blue and white on the top.

"Well, hello there," Indy said as he approached.

"What is it, Dr.," Nhean asked.

"It's a police box. You don't usually find these outside of England. And never in sealed, 3000 year old Cambodian pyramids. What are you doing here?"

As if on queue the door swung open and a bizarre little wisp of a man stumbled out. He was about average height, just under six foot or so with short cropped auburn hair. His clothing reminded Indy of a stodgy old professor, with his ruffled tweed jacket and tan slacks. The odd little man also appeared to be having an involved conversation with someone but he was completely alone.

"… and that's when they made me their king. Or would have, I suppose, if they still had teeth… what? Yes… oh, my word," he exclaimed as he noticed Indy and the others for the first time. "Have I gone and landed in someone's study again?"

"Does this look like a study to you?"

"Maybe. How should I know how you like to study?"

Apart from everything else, there was something off about the little man. Indy couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was specifically something wrong with his left hand side. It's almost as though he knew something was there, but he simply didn't want to see. Almost like there was something there he _wanted_ to be blind to.

"Who are you," Indy asked.

The little mans chest swelled with pride before responding.

"I am… The Doctor."

"The Doctor?"

The Doctor smiled eagerly in anticipation. He always looked forward to this next part.

"Doctor of what?"

"What?"

The strange little man almost seemed hurt by the question.

"Doctor of what," Indy reiterated.

"No-no-no, you're doing it wrong," the Doctor said as he stepped near. "I say 'I'm the Doctor' and you say…"

"_… of what?_"

"Yeah, well… oh, just forget it," the Doctor said with a dismissive wave of the hand. "The moment has passed. The moment has passed. And you are?"

"Dr. Indiana Jones," he said extending his hand. "Professor of archaeology at Marshall College."

"An archaeologist," the Doctor said, regarding Indy's outstretched hand as one might a wet fish. "I point and laugh at archaeologists."

"Is that a fact," Indy said, withdrawing his hand.

"Dr. Jones, I'll explore ahead a little bit," Bourey said, grabbing another torch from his pack.

"Don't wander far and touch nothing," Indy warned over his shoulder.

Bourey nodded in reply and continued into the dark after setting his own torch alight.

"So how did you get here," Indy asked the Doctor. "And where are you from? You sound like you're English."

"Do I really? Fantastic! I've always wanted to sound English. Good show. And as for how I got here, I'm not really sure. I just hit 'random' on my playslist. So, where is 'here', anyway?"

Before Indy could answer the Doctor walked up to the wall and rapped on it gingerly with one knuckle before scratching it with his finger. Then he took a strange pen or flashlight object from his pocket and held it to the wall. It hummed and buzzed in a range of musical tones and he regarded it closely when it had finished. Then he placed it back in his pocket… but not before licking the wall.

"Are you mad," Indy exclaimed, setting a hand on his revolver for safety's sake.

"Mad? Am I _Mad_? Sir, I resent the insinuation. I am certainly not mad… Well, maybe. Quite possibly, actually. I've been alone for quite a while. I suppose it depends on your definition, really. But, more to the point, I know where I am! I'm in a temple or a pyramid of some type in east central Cambodia."

"Really? You got all that from licking the wall, did you?"

"Yes. Among other things… but yes."

"Okay, Doctor, I think it's time for you to go sell crazy somewhere else, 'cause we're all stocked up here."

"How rude!"

"And another thing…"

Indy was cut short and the entire party turned toward the antechamber door as a cry of fright and panic cut through the air toward them. Immediately the entire party bolted for the door and Indy led the way, torch in hand, down the inky black corridor before them. Ignoring any threat of traps which may lay before them, they dashed down the corridor and to the well lit shrine beyond. The shrine was completely empty but for the three idols at the far end of the chamber. Indy and Nhean looked for Bourey everywhere in the room, even calling to him up the shaft in case something pulled him up that way. But it was to no avail. He was nowhere to be seen, but they tried all the same.

All but the doctor. Instead he quietly approached the front of the room where the idols stood waiting. As he approached he stared at them, unblinking. His eyes wide with dread. Directly before him stood the Sisters of Death. Three women frozen in stone. On their backs angelic wings belied faces of sorrow which they kept buried in their hands, weeping.

"Oh, no," the Doctor said quietly.

Indy and Nhean, meanwhile had not given up. They continued to scour the room for any sign of Bourey, but to no avail.

"Dr. Jones," the Doctor called, though he dared not take his eyes off the angels.

"Not now, Doctor! Bourey! Bourey, can you hear me?"

"Dr. Jones," the Doctor called again, more loudly this time.

"Doctor, damn it! Either help or shut up!"

"Dr. Jones, Bourey is gone!"

Indy and Nhean both abandoned their search. Nhean stood in stunned silence while Indy stormed imposingly close, almost speaking into the Doctors ear.

"What did you say?"

"Bourey is gone, Dr."

"How can you say that?"

"Look at the statue."

"It's just a statue, Doctor," Indy said dismissively.

"Look at the statue," the Doctor demanded and Indy did. "A little out of place, isn't it? Greco Roman design in the midst of Cambodian architecture. Odd, don't you think?"

"It was brought here by the East India company. What does this have to do…"

"From where? Somewhere else in Cambodia I'll wager. Yes? Strange, don't you think, that they would bring something like this to the middle of a foreign land just to dump it."

"Then what is it," Indy asked, noticing how out of place it was for the first time. "And what does this have to do with Bourey?"

"Tell me, Dr. Jones, did you pass any bodies when you came in here?"

"Yes," he said after a moments pause. "By the door."

"You, there. Boy," the Doctor said, beckoning Nhean over. "You see these statues? Watch these statues."

"Doctor we don't have time for this…"

"Keep watching these statues," the Doctor said, ignoring Indy's pleading. "And whatever you do don't stop watching. Don't turn your head. Don't look away. Don't even blink. Ever. You understand?"

Nhean nodded nervously, not taking his eyes off the statues.

"Good lad. Now, Dr. Jones, show me this body."

Indy grabbed his torch and took the Doctor back to the entrance at the bottom of the stairs, leaving Nhean with the angels. The Doctor stooped to examine the body, muttering to himself as he did.

"No-no-no, this is all wrong. Too old, too old. This is _far too old_! This must be… 337 years old. But that's impossible. They don't feed like this."

"Don't feed like what, Doctor," Indy said, growing impatient. "What are we dealing with?"

The Doctor cupped his head in his hands and pulled his hair frantically in search of an answer.

"Okay, listen," he said at last. "Can you accept that there are some things in this world that defy logic? Defy reason? Can you accept that there are some things in this world that are so far beyond what you know that they may seem almost like magic?"

"I'd be a fool if I couldn't," Indy said after a moment of thought. "In fact I've had a little experience in that area."

"Good, so listen closely. What we're dealing with are beings called the weeping angels. They're predators. The oldest predators. And they have a nearly perfect defense mechanism. Whenever someone is looking at them they become quantum locked and turn to stone. It's involuntary. They can't help it. And they feed on _time energy_. They send their victims back in time and feed off the energy created by the time vortex. But this is wrong," he said again regarding Bourey's now desiccated corpse. "They usually only send people back 50 or 60 years. Never centuries. Dr. Jones, when you examined him did you find anything on the body? He may have left you a note if he thought he might not get out of here."

Instantly Indy's thoughts went to the journal still in his pack. He hastily loosened the bindings and opened it. The bindings had rotted away over the years and many of the pages fell to the ground as he rushed through attempting to find the last entry. But eventually he found it. He showed it to the Doctor who began reading it aloud.

"_What has happened to me_," the Doctor began. "_Am I in the underworld? Am I being punished? I did not believe such stories growing up, but now am I going to spend eternity being tormented by these demons? They come for me in the night, when all goes dark. I hear them. I feel them, their breath on my neck. They take me and send me to a new hell each time. It's the same place but different. Sometimes hotter, sometimes colder. Sometimes wet, sometimes dry. Different seasons and different times but the same place. The way is blocked and I can't leave. What have I done to deserve this?_

_"They are gone now. I can't find them anywhere, but I know they will be back. I will not let them take me again! I will rob them of their prize._

_"Indy, Nhean, I'm sorry."_

The Doctor closed the book and stared off into space, lost in thought. He handed the book back to Indy, muttering silently to himself.

"Of course, of course," he said, staring absently at the walls. "300 years. Trapped in one place. No food, not even a nibble! What else were they going to do?"

"Doctor," Indy said. He tried getting the Doctor's attention but he seemed utterly lost in his own world. "Doctor!"

Finally the Doctor was roused from his contemplations and met Indy's gaze.

"Right. We need to leave, now! No time to waste."

"Here, you take this," Indy said, passing his torch to the doctor. He took some of the bones at his feet, wrapped them in cloth and made an impromptu torch of his own. "You go ahead. I'll get Nhean and meet you up top."

"No, absolutely not! You don't know these creatures like I do. We stick together and we stay alive."

"Fine. Let's go."

Indy and the Doctor again made for the shrine at the far end of the dark corridor. They ran as fast as they could but stopped short a few dozen meters out from the end of the corridor. Somehow the statues had moved. They no longer stood at the far end of the chamber, cradling their weeping faces in open palms. Now they all clambered, frozen in time, through the open doorway. And Nhean was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, Nhean," the Doctor said, sorrow manifest in his voice. "I told you not to blink."

"What's happened here, Doctor? Where's Nhean?"

"He's gone, I'm afraid."

"Gone?"

"Yes. There's nothing for it now. We need to get out of here. All of us."

Indy didn't argue as the Doctor took point and ran down the corridor. Behind them they heard a shuffling and scratching in the dark. Hissing whispers and sighing conversations just beyond the torchlight. When they reached the antechamber where the Doctors box was Indy ran by, but the Doctor turned in.

"No, Doctor," Indy called after him. "We need to get out of here!"

"Yes, exactly," the Doctor said, fishing a key out of his pocket. "We'll take my car. Be a lamb and watch the door, would you?"

"Watch the door?"

Indy watched as the doctor inserted his key into the door and immediately began fumbling with it, muttering all the more as he did.

"Oh, come on, baby! This really isn't time for games, you need to let daddy in, now…"

"Listen, I don't know what you're playing at, but I think it's time for answers."

"Yes! Answers, everyone loves answers but… well, he may need to come with us, my dear…"

"Who are you talking to?"

"What? Oh, no one… Yes, I know you're not no one but… You know we really don't have time for this right now…"

"Well I think it's time to make time! I want to know what's going on here."

"You know, just once I'd like to meet a stupid ape who knows how to follow directions… fine, a cat then!"

"Now you listen, you crazy little man, If you think I'm getting in this tiny little box with you then you have another think coming. Now, you want to play the boss and you want to play the nutty professor? Fine, but if you want me to follow you down your little rabbit hole I need answers. So I suggest you open up and…"

"SHUT UP! Fine, you want answers. And you will both get answers in due course. But first I have a question of my own that must be answered. By either of you."

"Fine. What?"

"Would either of you care to tell me _who is watching the door_?"

Indy turned to the door and jumped back with a start as, unknown to him, the angels had already crept into the room while he was arguing with the doctor. More than that, they were only feet away. Their angelic visage had disappeared, a vicious snarl curled upon their lips as they groped angrily for their prey.

"Doctor, what am I looking at," Indy asked.

"The true face of the angels," The Doctor said. If he was afraid he never showed it, speaking very calmly and matter of factly.

"Doctor, you said something about these things being trapped for 300 years? Without food? And what does this have to do with Bourey's skeleton being too old?"

"Everything! Look at them. I mean really _look at them_. See what's right in front of your face. They're emaciated!"

And indeed they were. Looking at them more closely they appeared as a human might if he hadn't had a decent meal for a month.

"They have had nothing to eat for 300 years. Not a meal, not a snack, not a nibble. Nothing… until now. Tell me, Dr. Jones, if you were trapped in a room with only one meal to last the rest of your life, what would you do?"

"I'd try to make it last as long as I could," Indy said, not taking his eyes off the creatures before him.

"And then what? You'll need to finish it sometime. What would you do when it's gone? Could you consider the unthinkable? Everything you eat has to come out sometime, does it not? Can you imagine being so hungry, being so _desperately hungry_, that you would eat your own effluent as soon as it left your body? They did. First they fed on poor Bourey, sending him 50 years into the past. Then, having no other food at the time, they fed on him again. And again. And again. And again. Eventually they fed until they sent him back to a time before they were here, about 337 years ago. And then they did the same for poor Nhean. By the time they were done with them they probably had no nutrient value left."

"So what now?"

"Now you keep your eyes open," the Doctor said as he again tried his key. This time the key slid in and turned happily at his command. "That's it, you sexy beast! I knew you loved me. Okay, everyone inside."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Positive. Don't worry, I got them," the Doctor said, fixing his gaze on the angels. "Just get inside. And leave the torch outside, if you would."

Indy let the torch fall to the ground and walked backward into the blue box, never taking his eyes off the angels. The Doctor followed when he was inside and latched the door shut behind him. He ran past and Indy followed into the impossibly vast space beyond. With jaw agape, he beheld what he could only describe as a cathedral of sorts. An expansive, technological cathedral. At the center of the cathedral, on a raised platform, a vast array of instruments were set into a shimmering, metallic dais. From the midst of the dais a mass of crystal rose prominently. It moved rhythmically up and down to the sound of something like a heartbeat which filled the chamber.

"It's okay. You can say it," the Doctor said over his shoulder as he worked feverishly on some controls set into the dais.

"It's bigger on the inside," Indy said, all other words eluding him.

"Well, at least you got that one right."

From behind more moaning sighs and hissing whispers could be heard. Within seconds a loud scratching echoed from the door as the creatures tried to claw their way in.

"Doctor, they're coming in," Indy said as he began backing into the room.

"Not a chance," the Doctor replied, still working feverishly. "The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn't get through that door. And believe me, they've tried!"

"So what are you doing," Indy asked, joining the Doctor by the controls.

"This pyramid has been opened. If those things escape they'll wreak havoc on the local population. We can't allow that."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Leave it to me. I have my own experience in this regard."

Still working on his controls, the Doctor also paid heed to a motion tracker he had called up on one of the displays. The display showed the exterior of the ship and the angels around it. Desperately they encircled the box looking for any point of ingress. When they were in position, the Doctor lifted a lever on his control panel. The entire chamber filled with that familiar mechanical wheezing Indy had heard before. On the view screen the position of the ship seemed to change. It moved about 3 meters to the south, but the angels never moved. Now they appeared nearly motionless on the screen.

"Perfect! Let's go outside," the Doctor said after the ship had landed.

"But those _things_ are out there," Indy protested.

"Of course they are! Come along, they're perfectly safe."

Indy followed the Doctor outside and, indeed, the box had somehow moved. But, only a few meters to the north, a trio of stone angels stood where the box once had. Together they snapped and snarled, frozen in time, staring at each other.

"There we go! See that," the Doctor said, tapping on one of the angels. "Perfectly harmless. Now they can't harm anyone unless someone moves them out of eyesight of each other. And local superstition will probably keep people out of here for the next few hundred years, so problem solved. Easy peasy!"

Indy approached the angels and placed his hand on her shoulder. Then, examining the figure closely, he gently tapped it as the Doctor had done.

"Right, I can't imagine you fancy the thought of trekking back through that jungle all by yourself, so let's be off."

Without a further word the Doctor turned and stepped back inside the box.

"Now wait one damn minute," Indy said as he angrily followed the Doctor inside. "You don't want to tell me your proper name, fine. Every man deserves his secrets. But I think it's time for answers."

Halfway up the ramp, the Doctor stopped and bowed his head. Slowly he turned to meet Indy's gaze.

"Yes, of course you're right," the Doctor agreed. "What do you want to know?"

At the Doctors side that familiar specter stood looming. Indy knew something was there, but somehow he simply didn't want to know.

"What do I want to know? _What do I want to know!?_ How about this," Indy said, gesturing to the technological cathedral in which they stood. "_This_ is as good a place to start as any."

"This is my TARDIS," the Doctor replied plainly.

"TARDIS?"

"T-A-R-D-I-S. It stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. It's my ship."

"Your ship? Like a space ship?"

"Space, yes… and time. It's good for the occasional interdimensional jaunt, as well. I suppose you could call it my Inter Dimensional Transit Unit. My TARDIS _ITDU_," the Doctor exclaimed, the words rolling clumsily off his lips. At the words the crystal mass pulsed red and the console twittered at him angrily. "Yes, my dear, I'm sorry," he said, stroking the console so as to comfort it. "That was stupid. I won't say that again."

Again Indy was very aware of the specter by the Doctor's side, though he didn't want to be. But he perceived it all the same as it slowly drifted down around and stood beside him, studying him.

"Wait, so this is a time ship," Indy said, ignoring the specters gaze.

"That's one way of putting it, yes."

"So we can go back in time?"

"That should be implied by the name, yes."

"So we can save Bourey and Nhean!"

"No," the Doctor said, averting his gaze. "We can't."

"What do you mean we can't? Of course we can. We're in a time machine. We can just go back and pick them up!"

"I mean time travel has certain rules and even greater responsibilities. One of which being that you can't cross your own time stream. We can't alter the course of our own destinies."

"But why?"

"Look at it this way," the Doctor said, stepping closer. "What was your first clue that something was wrong in this pyramid?"

"Finding Bourey's body."

"Exactly. Without that body you would have had no idea something was amiss. Next, consider the note. That note gave me crucial information. Without both working together I would have had no idea what had happened or even when to look for them. And if we go back in time to retrieve them then I won't have those clues. You will never find Bourey's body, I will never have the note and we will have created a paradox. I'm sorry, Dr. Jones, but Bourey and Nhean are gone. Some moments in time can be changed and some are fixed in time and space. I'm afraid this is one of them."

Indy lowered his head, begrudgingly accepting the truth.

"You're right, Doctor," Indy agreed at last. "They knew the risks."

"Is there anything else I can tell you?"

"Yeah, there is," Indy said, a new fire in his voice.

Without warning Indy lashed out at the specter beside him. Though his senses told him that nothing was there, and he didn't even want anything to be there if it was there, he found it and made contact anyway. He drove it to the wall as it thrashed and clawed against him. As he touched it the illusion began to fade and he saw, for the first time, the visage of a woman. Draped around her neck was a charm of some type. It was a technological bauble of the type seen in the control room. Instinctively Indy took hold of the bauble, which hung just above her breast, and ripped it from her neck. He jumped back with a start, his lying senses being shocked by the sudden appearance of the woman before him.

"What the hell is going on here," Indy demanded as he beheld the woman.

She was clearly not human, but she could have passed for one at a distant glance. Her skin appeared generally Caucasian but for a delicate, reddish brown mottling which started about her eyes, traveled down her neck and sides, ending in a delicate lattice encircling her exposed navel. Her reddish brown hair, which was more red than brown, seemed wild and untamed yet strangely well kept. It flowed around her face and neck like a waterfall and framed her eyes which were a deep green. As she stood, gasping for breath after the assault, she bore her teeth which were not unlike one would expect to find on a cat or a vampire.

"Okay, now take it easy," the Doctor said, raising his hands in a calming gesture. "This is Vranea Ch'syko. She's my guest, like you."

"Why were you hiding her?"

"She's not human. You humans are a bit of an inconsistent lot. Some of you react well to aliens, some are just as happy to dissect them. Vranea likes to keep a low profile until she knows what type you are."

"So how were you hiding her?"

"That device in your hand is called a perception filter. It doesn't make people invisible, just undesirable. Like you don't want to see them. It's like when someone asks you to pass the salt but you can't because you can't see it, even though it's right in front of you. A perception filter does the same thing as your brain does by accident, but on purpose. Now, if you please," the Doctor said holding out his empty palm.

Indy nodded in contrition and handed the bauble back to the Doctor.

"Thank you," he said, though he had no sooner received it than he was distracted by a peculiar chiming from the console which sent him into a twitter. "Oh, I have new mail!"

Eagerly the Doctor rushed to his console and checked his message. As he did a smile widened on his face and a proper childish gleam to accompany it.

"Buckle up, kids! We're going on a trip," the Doctor exclaimed excitedly after reading his message.

"Going on a trip? I can't afford another trip," Indy said as he approached the Doctor who was again hard at work on the controls. "I need to be back in time for the start of the new semester in a few weeks."

"We're in a time and space machine," the Doctor replied. "I can take you to the moon and have you back at your university by lunch time yesterday."

"Well then where are we going?"

"Off to see a countryman of yours. You may know him. A little man by the name of _FDR!_"

"_Franklin Delano Roosevelt,_" Indy said, stepping closer. "We're off to see the President?"

"Yeah," the Doctor replied, a smug grin stretched from ear to ear. "He and I are buds."

"What did he want?"

"Not a clue. He didn't say. That's what we're off to see, isn't it? Why don't you go play nice with Vranea for a bit. We'll be there in a tick."

Without much else to do, Indy stood by Vranea who regarded him curiously.

"Sorry for attacking you," Indy said.

"Don't be," she replied. "You fought well. I'm actually impressed you could see me through the Doctor's magic."

"Not magic," the Doctor called from his console. "Science!"

"Same thing, Doctor," she called back up to him, reveling in the waves of irritation washing over his face.

As she taunted the Doctor, Indy couldn't help but notice how strangely she was dressed. The soles of her shoes were unusually thick, four inches thick, making her almost as tall as Indy. She also wore bell bottom pants and a flower power t-shirt which was tied off at the midriff. She caught Indy in his ogling and defiantly crossed her arms before her.

"What?"

"Is this how everyone dresses on your planet," Indy asked.

"We were just at Woodstock."

"Woodstock? Isn't that in New York state? They don't dress that way in New York, honey."

She regarded him quizzically for a moment.

"Oh, I guess that hasn't quite happened for you yet. Just wait about 40 years. You'll understand."

As they watched the Doctor scramble around the controls, a smile crept across Vranea's face.

"You were right about one thing, you know," she said.

"Oh?"

"He really is quite mad."


	2. Chapter 1: The Eternal Crypt

**Chapter 1: The Eternal Crypt**

* * *

"So, Doctor, how do you know the president," Indy asked as the Doctor worked the controls beside him.

"I've done him a favor or two," the Doctor said, very nonchalantly.

"Oh? I've never met the president, but I have gone on missions for the government myself."

"Is that so?"

Indy nodded.

"They've asked me to find the odd artifact. _I am_ an archaeologist, after all. It's kind of what I do."

"I see," the doctor said. He turned to face Indy, taking his last statement as a challenge. "I found mummies… on Mars."

"Oh, please. I'm an archaeologist. I eat mummies for breakfast."

"Really? That seems unhygienic," the Doctor said plainly. "Fine. I found an ancient Ice Warrior frozen on a Russian ship."

"The Ark of the Covenant," Indy said smugly.

"I saved a little girl from being consumed by an alien posing as a sun god."

"I freed an entire village of child slaves from a Tuggee cult who was using them to find the lost Sankara Stones."

"I met _the Devil_," the doctor said, leaning in.

"So did I," Indy said, leaning in just as much. "He signed my Dad's grail diary. And, oh yeah, I found the _Holy Grail_, too!"

"Ugh, someone open a window," Vranea said as she leaned casually on the railing. "A girl could gag on all the testosterone in here."

With their contest cut short, the Doctor focused on the controls and landed the ship in short order. After the ship had settled, a satisfying "thud" resounding through the control room, the Doctor opened the doors and his companions followed him through. The trio found themselves face to face with nearly half a dozen White House security personnel.

"Stand down," an authoritative voice boomed from across the room. "That's an order, Captain."

"Sir, are you sure," the security captain asked.

"Of course I'm sure," the president said, stepping in front of his desk. "I called these people here. You're dismissed, Captain. And, Captain, this incident never happened. Are we clear?"

"Crystal, Mr. President. Clear the room!"

At the captains word the other security personnel vacated, leaving only the President.

"Hello, Doctor," President Roosevelt said, extending his hand warmly. "I'm glad you could come."

"Don't be like that, Frankie," the Doctor said, holding his arms wide. "Come on, give us a hug!"

Eagerly the Doctor embraced the president who, for his part, looked singularly uncomfortable at the gesture.

"Oh, yes... indeed. It's good to see you as well, Doctor."

"Mr. President, allow me to introduce my companions," the Doctor said as they parted. "This is Dr. Jones. He's a doctor of archaeology, if you'll pardon the oxymoron."

"Dr. Jones," the president said, a look of astonishment on his face. "The same who helped us discover the ark?"

"Yes, sir," Indy said extending his hand. "At your service."

"Ah, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr. Jones," the President said, taking Indy's hand and shaking it firmly. "We had thought to contact you for this mission but Mr. Brody said you were away on other business and not due to return soon. Otherwise I would have called you first."

"Is that so," Indy said, shooting another smug glance at the Doctor.

"And this young lady," the Doctor said, changing the topic as quickly as he was able. "Is my other companion, Vranea Ch'syko."

Vranea felt quite naked, realizing for the first time that she was without her perception filter. She crossed her arms before her as the President scrutinized her closely.

"My dear, are you not human as well," the president asked.

"No, I'm not," she replied. "I'm Roni, from Cheldana."

"I see. Does everyone dress like this on Cheldana?"

Vranea sighed, stomping her foot impatiently.

"We just came from Woodstock."

"Woodstock? My dear, I have been to New York. Many times, in fact. And I have never known the women there to dress quite as tart as this."

"Yeah, well… ugh! You're all a bunch of prudes," she exclaimed as she stormed back into the Tardis.

"Excuse me, Mr. President," Indy said after Vranea slammed the door behind her. "But I'm sure you're busy, so perhaps we should get down to business."

"Yes, Dr. Jones, you're right. Please have a seat."

Indy and the Doctor each took a seat in front of the Presidents desk and he took his own seat facing them. Then he picked up the phone on his desk and spoke to his secretary.

"Missy, could you bring in those documents I had you prepare? And have someone bring in an extra chair while you're at it, would you? Thank you, Missy."

After setting down his receiver, he focused on the doctors before him.

"Now, Dr., as you may know the Nazi's have been highly concerned with gathering together occultic artifacts from all over the world for five or six years, now…"

"Yes, that's a matter of public record," the Doctor said, nodding.

"Yes, uh… actually, Doctor, I was speaking specifically to _that_ Dr.," the President said, pointing to Indy.

Indy looked to the Doctor, once again smiling smugly.

"Ahem, yes. Well, anyway," the President continued, noting the tension between the two. "For nearly a year we have been intercepting German chatter which indicates that they may be on the cusp of discovering another."

At that moment a woman entered the room holding an armful of maps and other documents. She was a stately looking woman with her graying, brown hair tied back to reveal a face of the most serious demeanor. She was followed by a member of security carrying a chair who set it between Indy and the Doctor.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. President," she said as she laid the documents before them. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Please," he said, accepting the documents from her. "And some for our guests. Three cups."

"Three cups," she said quizzically, eyeing the two men before her.

"Yes. The third is in there," he said as he drew her attention to the Tardis. "She's changing into something a little less tawdry."

"I see. I'll be back shortly, then."

"Thank you, Missy," he said as she closed the door behind her. "As I was saying, we've been following German communiqués for nearly a year. The reports are unusually well encrypted and, if not for a cipher we obtained from the Doctor a few years back, we mightn't be able to decipher them at all. That's part of the reason you are on our shortlist of contacts, Doctor. Apart from being an important artifact of Earth's history, we believe this artifact may be _extraterrestrial _in nature."

"So what of the artifact," the Doctor said impatiently. "What do you know about it?"

"We know very little apart from what is recorded in these clay tablets."

The President rifled through his documents until he produced a sheaf of papers. It was a collection of photographs and rubbings of some 13 clay tablets, along with their translations. He passed them off to the Doctor who studied them closely.

"What you see before you," the President continued. "Is what appears to be a rather obscure and ancient variation of Vedic Sanskrit, dated to about 2000 B.C. The tablets reference something called 'The Eternal Crypt.'"

"Doctor, may I?"

Indy held out his hand, hoping to examine the documents himself. Vranea emerged from the TARDIS as the Doctor handed the papers to Indy.

Vranea had ditched her flower child costume in favor of something a little more comfortable. She now bore a red, slim fitting, silken tunic which hung about her hips. The entire tunic was laced with a kind of black webbing which bound it roundabout even down to the short sleeves, which ended at the elbows. Below the tunic she wore a pair of black leggings and a pair of tightly bound leather tabi boots on her feet. She took a seat between Indy and the Doctor. She crossed her legs, with her dominant leg pointing toward Indy, as Mrs. LeHand returned with their coffee.

She set the coffee down before them and they received it with thanks. Vranea, having never tasted it before, brought it to her nose and sniffed carefully. She crinkled at its pungent aroma before taking one careful sip. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she shivered as its bitter notes tickled her senses. Then she tilted the cup back and downed nearly two thirds of the entire hot cup in only a few short gulps, not flinching once.

"Who translated these tablets," Indy said as he flipped from one to another.

"We've had top experts in the field look at them," the President said. "Why? Do you dispute the translation?"

Indy nodded.

"The translation reads more like folklore and superstition, rather than the writings of intelligent people describing actual witnessed events."

"Dr. Jones, are you saying it isn't folklore and superstition?"

"We have a certain conceit in our culture," Indy said, settling into his chair. "We believe that we are the best and brightest that has ever been. We are entirely close minded to the possibility that perhaps ancient people were as intelligent and sensitive as the best of us. Maybe even more so. Have you considered, Mr. President, that maybe all of the great advances that we have made over the last hundred years aren't that advanced? That, just perhaps, we are only just now recovering a greater knowledge that was lost?"

The Doctor regarded Indy closely. He was clearly impressed, for his own part. Indy had broken nearly every dogmatic rule the Doctor had come to expect from archaeologists in a few short sentences. Vranea was less interested in the conversation and more in the coffee. She downed the last of hers before Indy had finished speaking.

"Can I have some more," she asked, licking her lips.

"That seems a little difficult to believe, Dr. Jones," the President said as he reached for his phone. "Missy, could you bring us in a pot of coffee?... Yes, a whole pot."

"It wouldn't be if you had seen the things I have," Indy replied. "For supposedly 'simple' people, I have seen them craft some absolutely ingenious traps to ensnare intruders in their temples. What's more profound is that these traps still work after thousands of years. That belies an intelligence that we have yet to master to this day."

"Indeed, Dr. Jones. So then, if the work of our translators is so conceited and false, what is your interpretation?"

"Well, you're right that the dialect is obscure," Indy said, turning back to the first tablet. "It's Vedic Sanskrit, alright, but almost a primitive form…"

"_Primitive_, Dr. Jones?"

"Sorry. Force of habit."

Mrs. LeHand returned and set a pot of coffee before them. Vranea eagerly thrust her cup out and Missy filled it. Once again Vranea downed nearly half of the hot cup in only a few, mighty gulps.

"So then what does it say," the President asked, somewhat distracted by how greedily Vranea was inhaling the coffee.

"The literal translation is correct," Indy said. "It literally does say 'The Eternal Crypt.' But the context is all wrong. It's as though someone 4000 years in the future was to read the term, 'Fred kicked the bucket.' Without cultural context they might infer that someone named Fred literally kicked a bucket. But we understand that this colorful term means that Fred died. The correct translation of this artifact should be 'the bounded realm of time and space.' Hmm… Doctor, do you read Sanskrit?"

"No," the Doctor replied. "But the TARDIS reads just about everything. It can translate for me."

"Then perhaps you should look at this," Indy said, passing the papers to the Doctor. "I think you could make more sense of this than I could."

The Doctor accepted the papers back from Indy and studied them closely. He flipped slowly from one tablet to the next, becoming ever more engrossed as he did. About halfway through his speech became a stuttered symphony of "ooh's" and "ah's" punctuated by various short intakes of breath.

"Doctor, do you have something," the President asked.

"Well, I can certainly see why you don't want the Nazi's to have this artifact," the Doctor began. "And, Dr. Jones, you were quite right that their translation was off. If I'm reading this right, and I would like to think I am, it could be described as a type of energetic quantum disassembly device."

"And what does that mean," Indy asked.

"It's a time/space manipulator thingy."

Indy said nothing at first. The Doctor regarded him in the silence and saw the vacant look still set upon his face.

"It makes time and space do whatever you say," the Doctor said slowly. "And I really can't make it any simpler than that."

Indy shot the doctor a look with a definite, yet silent, "go screw yourself" attached to it. The Doctor kept reading, oblivious to the waves of ire rolling off Indy. Vranea, meanwhile was entirely lost to them. She happily finished her fourth cup of coffee and, somewhat sloppily, poured her fifth. She inhaled its acrid vapors blissfully as her face flushed.

"My dear, are you quite alright," the President asked, noticing how her eyes had also glazed over.

Vranea said nothing in return but only giggled childishly as she began inhaling her fifth cup.

"Oh, yes, I should have warned you about that," the Doctor said without taking his eyes off the tablets. "Roni are highly susceptible to caffeine. It's like catnip for them. She'll be fine. Just don't expect her to do algebra or remember her own name any time soon… Oh, my word!"

"Doctor? Have you found something?"

The Doctor said nothing as he studied with focused intensity the second last tablet in the series. He flipped to the last tablet and began scanning the text with his finger, an expression of dread deepening on his face.

"Doctor, are you alright? Is it bad?"

"Oh, yes," the Doctor said with a nod. "It's bad. It's quite bad. It's _unbelievably_ bad!"

"Spit it out, then! What is it?"

"It's a tardis," the Doctor said, meeting the Presidents gaze. "The Nazi's aren't just looking for another artifact. They think they've found another tardis here on Earth."

"Well, that should stand to reason, shouldn't it, Doctor," Indy said. "After all, if your people have been visiting Earth then it should only be a matter of time before we find evidence of it…"

"No-no-no. The last time ship was destroyed in the Time War against the Daleks."

"The Daleks? What are they, Space Nazi's?"

"If the Daleks are Space Nazi's then the Nazi's are Catholic school girls. Sometimes it's best if you don't know what horrors snarl at you from the dark, Dr. Jones. Let's just say they were big, bad and my people gave their lives to keep them at bay. The Time War destroyed everything; every Dalek, every Time Lord, every tardis… or so I had thought. I only knew of one that _might_ have escaped."

"Could this be it?"

"Unlikely, I think. That one belonged to an old enemy of mine and was lost to the time vortex. It's probably still there, I would imagine. No, this tardis must belong to someone who crashed during the Time War."

"How bad is it, Doctor," the President asked, leaning in. "What can we expect if Hitler acquires his own tardis?"

"Nothing short of the end of life as you know it, Mr. President," the Doctor replied solemnly. "With a working tardis he could change history and sculpt it as he sees fit. He could slip back in time and create his own religion, complete with prophecies of himself as Messiah, so that the people will fall in line when they see him coming. He could go back in time and decimate anyone who troubled his beloved Aryan race before they ever became a problem. The Jews? Just go back 3000 years and murder Moses in his crib. The Americans? It would be nothing for him to slip back and destroy the entire First Continental Congress. The British Empire? Just stop Arthur from pulling that sword from the stone and the empire dies in utero."

"Doctor, you realize King Arthur was just a myth, right," Indy asked.

"Yeah, whatever," the Doctor said dismissively. "Remind me to take you on a field trip when this is all over. But even if the tardis isn't functional the technology within could drastically alter the course of humanity if even the least of it is back engineered. Imagine an entire army outfitted with perception filters! Such a force could walk into any country unchallenged. They could walk into any city, any military base and just execute the soldiers and police. No one would stop them and no one would even care. They could quite literally _walk into Mordor!_"

A deafening silence followed while Indy and the President regarded him curiously, that last being entirely over their heads. All but Vranea, that is, who was nursing her seventh coffee and being entirely lost in bliss.

"No? Nothing? Yeah well… whatever. In 70 years that's going to kill! The point is if that thing falls into the wrong hands then life as you know it is over. And the Nazi's are definitely the wrong hands. But even that is secondary to if they accidentally destabilize the tardis core in their tinkering."

"What happens if they destabilize the core, Doctor," the President asked.

"Do you know the Big Bang theory?"

"I'm familiar with it."

"It's a little bang compared to a destabilized tardis core."

"I see. In that case, Doctor, on behalf of the American people and the people of the world, I hereby commission you and your companions to retrieve The Eternal Crypt before it falls into Nazi hands."

"Oh, well now that I have _your _permission," the Doctor quipped as he began thumbing through some of the other documents and maps Mrs. LeHand had brought in. Again he brought that little wand out of his pocket and pointed it at the papers one at a time. He clicked various buttons on its surface and it hummed a series of musical tones at his command.

"What is that thing, Doctor," Indy asked.

"It's my sonic screwdriver."

"A sonic screwdriver?"

"Yeah. It's a screwdriver. And it's, you know… sonic. Look," the Doctor said as he held it to Indy's ear and it chimed happily.

"Okay, so why are you holding a screwdriver while reading the papers?"

"Because… just… well, do I criticize how you read? Just let me do my thing."

Indy shook his head at the crazy little man before turning his attention back to the President.

"Mr. President, do you know who the Germans are sending after the Crypt," Indy asked.

"Yes, in fact," the President said. He brought out a dossier and handed it to Indy who thumbed through it as the President was speaking. "It appears that Der Fuhrer has recruited a new adjutant. A warrant officer known only as Oberst Raemsteht."

"Oberst? A high rank for an _adjutant_, don't you think?"

"Indeed. But Hitler thinks quite highly of him, all the same."

Indy couldn't help but laugh as he read the dossier, which was remarkably sparse.

"First name, unknown. Age, unknown. Height, unknown. Race, unknown. Nationality, unknown. This isn't much to go on, Mr. President."

"No, certainly not. This man seems to have come out of nowhere. We're not even able to furnish you with a picture, I'm afraid."

Indy leaned his head in his hand and furrowed his brow, concentrating on what little information he did have.

"Raemsteht… that's an odd name, don't you think?"

"Yes, we thought so, too."

"Not German or Scandinavian, but it's close. Ukraine, perhaps? No, I don't think so. I suppose it could be an obscure dialect of Russian but…"

"Honestly, this is why I point and laugh at archaeologists," the Doctor interrupted. "You people quibble and fret over such trifles as a name while there's work to be done. Alright, I think I've seen everything I need to see. Frankie, thanks for the coffee but we should be off."

"Oh, but Doctor, there is so much more data to go over in these documents," the President said.

"No need, Frankie. No need. It's all in here," he said, flashing his screwdriver before replacing it in his pocket. "Don't want to dally. We've got artifacts to find, insane armies to stop and all that. Dr. Jones, kindly throw Vranea over your shoulder and escort her into the Tardis."

The Doctor rose from his chair and the President with him. He again removed the key from his pocket and fit it into the lock, which was again being stubborn.

"Oh, come on, baby," the Doctor pleaded. "You're ruining Daddy's big exit!"

Indy, meanwhile, had thrown an arm around Vranea and hefted her to her feet. She slumped loosely in his arms and threw her arms around his neck.

"Well, hello there, _Dr. Jones_," she said, playfully touching his nose. Indy couldn't help but smile at the inebriated young woman in his arms.

"Just call me 'Indy'," he said as he began escorting her to the Tardis.

"Oh, 'Indy'," the Doctor exclaimed excitedly. "I love it! So curt and manly. Indy. Indy! _Indy!_ Brilliant! Now, if only your curt and manly name could help me get this door open we would be in business."

Remembering how the Tardis had responded to the Doctor before, a coy smile arced on Indy's lips as he gently reached up and knocked on the door. Immediately the key gave way and the door swung ajar. The Doctor stepped back, stunned, while Indy gave him yet another smug glance.

"Yeah, well… whatever! And you," he said, pointing an accusatory finger at the Tardis. "I suppose you think that was incredibly clever!"

"Well, thank you for having us, Mr. President," Indy said with Vranea's arm draped over his shoulder for support. From within the Tardis the Doctor could be heard tearing it a new black hole. "I'm sorry our meeting couldn't have been under more normal circumstances, but I get the feeling 'normal circumstances' don't really exist with the Doctor."

"Indeed, they don't," the President agreed with a smile. "I have come to know that dealing with the Doctor's… _eccentricities_, is the price of dealing with the Doctor himself. Safe journey, Dr. Jones. And you as well, Miss Ch'syko."

"G'bye, sir," Vranea slurred. "Thanks for the coffee. I had a lot of caffeine today. I'm glad I didn't puke on your carpet."

Then she puked on his carpet.

"I had a lot of caffeine today. I'm sorry I puked on your carpet. 'Kay, G'bye!"

Indy offered the President an apologetic look of contrition as he led Vranea, still happily blissful, into the Tardis. The President never responded with scorn or rebuke as Indy had expected, but rather with an apologetic look of his own. Indy was beginning to understand why. After he had helped Vranea into the Tardis and closed the door behind him the Oval Office filled with that familiar mechanical wheezing. Within seconds the Tardis had vanished, leaving only the chaos of their meeting in its wake.

And so, with that insanity done, the President picked up his phone to speak with his secretary.

"Missy… yes it's over… Could you clean up the cups and have someone remove the extra chair from my office?... Thank you, Missy. And could you have someone from the janitorial staff come to my office to clean up some vomit… yes, I said _vomit_… Actually, Missy, I would rather not discuss the particulars of that event. _Ever_."


	3. Chapter 2: The Ocean of Gems

**Chapter 2: The Ocean of Gems**

* * *

After closing the door behind him, Indy helped Vranea up the ramp in the control room. He set her on one of the benches before the railing and she slumped over, a blissful smile still stretched upon her face. After launching the Tardis into the time vortex, the Doctor slipped down below and left Indy to tend the still befuddled Vranea. He emerged in short order with a metallic kit in his hand. He set the kit down on the bench beside her and opened it, pulling out a vial of clear liquid.

"Indy, could you sit her up, please," the Doctor said and Indy complied. "I'm sorry to pull you out of bliss, my dear," the Doctor said, uncapping the vial. "But the call has been sounded and I need everyone at full faculty."

Even in bliss Vranea recognized the vial immediately.

"No," she protested, clumsily swatting at the vial. "No more magic!"

"Not magic, my dear. Medicine. Now, open wide…"

"No!"

She swatted at the vial again, managing to spill a few precious drops of it.

"Indy, if you please," the Doctor said, gesturing to Vranea. Indy restrained her as the Doctor had ordered. The Doctor attempted to get as much of the medicine in her as possible but wound up wasting nearly half the vial. He managed to get a small amount in her mouth but not for long. She never swallowed but spat it angrily back at him.

"This is not going nearly as well as I had hoped," the Doctor said, wiping the medicine from his face.

"Here, let's trade places," Indy offered. "Let me have a shot."

And so they did. They swapped positions and the Doctor subdued Vranea while Indy administered the medicine. His approach was somewhat less… _tactful_ than the Doctor's. While the Doctor restrained her hands and head, Indy forced her mouth open with his left hand. With his right he dumped the remaining contents of the vial into her mouth. Then he quickly closed her mouth and held it shut while he placed his right hand over it. She tried to spit, of course, but she only succeeded in wasting a small amount which dribbled from between Indy's fingers. Much in spite of herself, she was forced to swallow the rest of it. When she did her eyes fluttered and she went limp in the Doctor's arms.

"Well, that was painful," Indy said as the Doctor laid Vranea down on the bench. "Like giving cough medicine to a three year old."

"It wasn't her fault," the Doctor said, wiping his face with a handkerchief. "She was hardly thinking clearly. An effect of the caffeine, I'm afraid."

"Will she be okay?"

"Oh, yes. Quite fine. We simply gave her a sobering agent. She'll be up and about in a minute or two. I wish we could have let her alone and let her enjoy herself, actually. But if we're about to square off against the Nazi's I need everyone ready and on alert. And thank you for your help, by the way. You have no idea how hard it is to get that sobering agent in her all by myself. Even completely obliterated she can put up quite a fight."

"Yeah, no problem. So, Doctor, I have a question that's been itching in the back of my mind ever since we left Cambodia."

"Oh?"

"Why does your ship look like a police box? That seems a little strange."

"This ship is outfitted with something called a chameleon circuit. It camouflages the ship according to its surroundings. If it lands in a forest it makes the ship look like a tree. If it lands in a bedroom it may look like a wardrobe or a cupboard. In ancient Greece or Rome it might look like a statue or a pillar. As it happens I landed in 1960's era London one fine day and it camouflaged itself as a police box. Then the circuit froze and it hasn't changed back since."

"Can't you fix it?"

"Sure I could. It's an easy fix, actually. But I kind of like it, truth be told."

"But aren't you worried about drawing attention?"

The Doctor stopped and reflected for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Doctor Jones, what do you think would happen if this ship were to appear overnight on any random street corner in America? Let's say Time Square, for example."

"I don't know," Indy said as he leaned against the railing. "I imagine it would cause a fair bit of turmoil. Some panic as people wonder how it got there."

"Really? Are you sure about that?"

"You're saying it wouldn't?"

"Indy, do you know what would really happen if this box appeared one night and was just _there_ to greet the people one morning? Do you know what would _really_ happen? Absolutely nothing! Most people would just walk by as if it had always been there. Some of the more astute may give it a sidelong glance as they passed but even they would hurry about their business."

"And why is that?"

"Because most people simply _aren't looking_ for it. They aren't looking for anything out of the ordinary and so they never find it!"

"Like your perception filter?"

"Yes, precisely! Most of these people aren't looking for a shape shifting time machine so they never see it. And most people don't even believe time travel is possible. So, even with the marvelous truth before their very eyes, they don't see. They won't see. More than that, they _don't even want to see_."

Another moment passed as they watched over Vranea who still snoozed silently before them.

"Indy, may I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Turn around is fair play."

"How did you see through Vranea's perception filter?"

"I didn't."

"Then how did you know she was there?"

"Well, I suppose it was because I _wanted_ to see. I'm an archaeologist. I've spent my entire life delving deeply into things that most people tread upon. And of the things most people tread upon few even care of that upon which they tread. That curiosity drives everything I do.

" So how could I see her? It's because I was _looking_ for her. Not her specifically, but anything out of the ordinary that could lead me to deeper truth. And so when I found something, that strange something that I didn't want to look at for some reason, it stood out to me. It piqued my interest."

"I see," the Doctor said, a new respect growing in his eyes.

As they finished their conversation, Vranea began to stir. Her lids fluttered open and she sat up, a new lucidity in her eyes. She looked confused for a moment, the last 20 minutes or so being a complete blur to her. Then she saw the Doctor and the medkit and a scowl deepened on her face.

"Doctor, I was having a good time," she rebuked him. "Damn you and your magic!"

"It's not magic," he scolded as he cleaned up the kit. "It's science!"

"Same thing, Doctor."

She took another moment to revel in the look of ire he bore her before turning her attention to Indy. When she did her eyes widened and her face flushed with embarrassment as her memories of the last 20 minutes trickled back into her head. Sensing what was to come she buried her reddening face in her palms before speaking to Indy, who looked down on her with a certain cheeky gleam in his eye.

"Indy, tell me I didn't puke on the Presidents carpet."

"You absolutely puked on the Presidents carpet."

"Oh no!" she cried into her palms.

"Recalling the aftermath of your 'good time,' are we," the Doctor said as he returned to the console.

"You could have stopped me before I went too far, you know!"

"Am I your father? You're a big girl, act like one."

The Doctor ignored her glare and fished his sonic screwdriver from his pocket. He plugged it into a port in the console and it clicked into place. Immediately a menu of a type Indy couldn't recognize appeared on a screen before the Doctor. It was a strange, circular language with an array of characters held in circular bubbles. Each bubble was connected by a lattice of lines forming a mind map of some type. The Doctor touched a few of the bubbles on screen and a new, more familiar series of images filled the screens before him. Indy recognized them immediately. They were the 13 tablets he had studied in the Presidents office plus several of the other documents and maps he hadn't had a chance to study.

"Doctor, how did you get those documents on your view screens," Indy asked.

"Magic," Vranea said playfully, once again reveling in the Doctors ire.

"Not magic. _Science! _I did it with this," the Doctor said tapping his screwdriver. "It captured the images and then uploaded them to the computer."

"So it's a camera," Indy said. "Why didn't you just say it was a camera?"

"You know what a camera is?"

"Of course I know what a camera is! It's the 1930's, not the dark ages."

"Right, sorry. It's hard to keep track of what era I'm in, sometimes. So, let's get to work, shall we? What are your impressions of the tablets Dr. Jones?"

"Well, it's clearly written in a form of proto-Vedic Sanskrit. I never read as much as you, Doctor, but I would say it's origins are from India, circa 2000 B.C. Perhaps earlier."

"I concur."

"So, we're off to India, then," Vranea said.

"It would appear so, My Dear. The only issue is where? Doctor Jones, I believe this is your area of expertise."

"The tablets should give us clues. Doctor, do they say where it's buried?"

"No, I'm afraid not."

"I thought as much. It's seldom that easy. Do the tablets give us any clues at all, Doctor?"

"Scant clues, at best. The tablets suggest that the ancients knew the dangers the Crypt possessed and hid it in a far away land, though they say not where. Hints to its location were reportedly given to three priests of the old order. These priests were charged with guarding the information until one worthy could claim it. Apparently they created a lineage, passing the information from one generation to the next, so that it may not be lost."

"How did they pass the information along?"

"Each priest branded the clue to his chest. Only all three clues together would unlock the Crypts final location."

"Branding," Vranea said with disgust. "A little extreme, don't you think?"

"It's better than engraving it on a medallion and then losing it," Indy said. "Well, that's something. It's not much, but it's something."

"That seems like a lot to me," Vranea added. "We're in a time machine. Why not just go back, find the priests and ask them?"

"It's not quite that simple," Indy replied. "Where should we start? It doesn't give us the priests names or even in what temples they served. Should we go back to ancient India and interview every monk and priest we find? And that's assuming that they were even Indian priests to begin with. This story could have been imported from Tibet or China, for all we know. This account could well have originated anywhere in the Asiatic realm. Yet even this is based on the assumption that the account didn't exist orally for hundreds of years before hand. No, we need more to go on.

"But this information does get us closer. Over the last 4000 years, but over the last 2000 years especially, Indian culture experienced a renaissance of sorts. Many universities were built over the last few millennia. When they did they gathered and collated teachings and writings from schools and monasteries locally and from around the world. It's entirely possible that the clues we need may have been gathered in one of these universities. Doctor, does any of that information say where the tablets were discovered?"

The Doctor took a moment to flip through the founding archaeologists notes before responding.

"Yes, Indeed it does. Apparently they were discovered in a Buddhist monastery outside a little village called Bargaon."

"Bargaon," Indy said, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. "Bargaon… Isn't that in Bihar province?"

"Yes," the Doctor said, once again consulting the archaeologists notes. "That's correct. Bihar province."

"As I recall," Indy said thoughtfully, "there is an old university at Nalanda, in Bihar. In its day it was said to house students from all over the world and boasted one of the largest libraries of its time. As with most libraries of its time it would have acquired literary works and artifacts from around the world. And, being the center of religious and philosophical thought of the day, it would have gathered these things in one place for the students to study. If the clues were ever in India then they may have been gathered there, at Nalanda."

"Excellent! To Nalanda," the Doctor exclaimed excitedly.

"I'm afraid it's not that easy, Doctor. In about 1197 A.D. a Turkish general named Bakhtiyar Khilji sacked Nalanda, burned thousands of the monks alive and beheaded thousands more in an attempt to stamp out Buddhism in the area. He set fire to the library and it's rumored to have burned for 3 months after the attack, it was so large. As of now the ruins comprise about 150 000 square meters, but it's estimated that 90% of the ruins are still undiscovered."

"So it will be like finding a needle in a haystack."

"Worse than that, I'm afraid. It will be like finding a needle in a haystack that was burned to the ground and looted nearly a thousand years ago."

"So it's hopeless," Vranea said, disappointment evident in her voice.

"Not completely," Indy replied. "In order to maintain such a large library they had a primitive card catalogue system."

"_Primitive_, Doctor Jones," Vranea teased. Indy smiled at her gall.

"Fair enough. But compared to our modern standards it truly was primitive. Even so, it should suit our needs, all the same. But even this is a long shot. It's highly likely the catalogue was destroyed. Any pieces that remain are highly unlikely to have any relevant information."

"No need to fret," the Doctor said as he began working the controls. "You said the library was destroyed in 1197? Then we'll go back to 1195, find the librarian, access the catalogue, get our clues and beat the Nazi's all before tea. Easy peasy!"

A familiar mechanical wheezing filled the control room and a familiar thud shortly thereafter.

"There we are," the Doctor crowed triumphantly. "Nalanda, 2:37 PM, September 6, 1195. I thought I'd give us an aerial view before we land. After all, seeing a dead city at the height of its power is a dream come true for an archaeologist, am I right? Come along, Indy!"

The Doctor gave Indy a hearty slap to the shoulder before proudly throwing the door ajar to reveal the vista beyond. Though not the vista he had intended. The smoke of a thousand inflamed Buddhist monks darkened the mid afternoon sky. Below them blood ran freely as thousands more had their heads removed under order of General Khilji. In the distance, beyond the smoke, students could be seen fleeing into the temples to escape the Turkish hordes who pursued them. But it was to no avail for, as they locked the doors behind themselves, the Turks also barricaded them in from the outside. Then they tossed oil and lit torches through any open window, setting student and faculty alight. It was good that Vranea had vomited before hand, because if she hadn't then she surely would have now.

"_Easy peasy_, Doctor?" Indy quipped.

"I think your dating methods need re-calibrated," the Doctor said.

"Apparently so."

"Alright, change of plan," the Doctor said closing the door behind them. He rushed to the console and started working again. Once more the control room filled with that familiar mechanical wheezing followed by a reverberating thud. The Doctor broke from his controls and joined Indy and Vranea by the door. "Ladies and gentlemen, for your approval I give you the new, improved and definitely _not burning_ University of Nalanda!"

The Doctor threw open the door, with as much grandeur as before, to reveal another vista. And this one was surely more spectacular than the last. What lay spread before them was a mammoth complex, too vast to be seen with the naked eye. Stretching many kilometers and covering eight separate compounds stood the University of Nalanda. Glassy lakes sat nestled within an expansive system of parks and all were contained and protected with in a lofty wall which encircled them roundabout. Temples surrounded by azure pools rose from the midst of the parks while the red brick campuses stood as sentinels above them all.

And in their midst, in the center of the complex, stood the library. Nearly 9 stories tall, the centermost of its towers glistened as the sun danced upon the gems set in its surface. All roads lead to it and all roads lead away as it stood, a tribute to the enlightenment of an entire age.

"Thank you for this, Doctor," Indy said, nearly breathless. "You were right. Any archaeologist in the world would die for this opportunity."

"Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that," the Doctor replied with a smile.

Below them a group of students had gathered from one of the local meditation shrines. Together they pointed and twittered excitedly among themselves.

"Vimana! Vimana!" they cried aloud.

"Doctor, I think you just invented the modern UFO sighting," Vranea said, looking down.

"What… oh," the Doctor uttered as he followed her gaze. "Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Alright, let's go."

The Doctor shut the door and returned to the controls. He fired up the core and that familiar wheezing filled the control room.

"Doctor, what are you doing," Indy asked.

"I'm setting the ship down somewhere a little more remote."

"But why? I thought you said people wouldn't notice it."

"And they won't… as long as it doesn't materialize before them. As long as it's there when they arrive they will think nothing of it as they walk happily past. But even a puppy can startle if it appears suddenly."

When the ship had landed the trio disembarked. He had landed them in a patch of forest some 20 meters from the nearest road. He locked the door behind them and they set off toward the gate of Nalanda. But they had only walked a few meters before Vranea remembered something they had forgotten.

"Oh, Doctor," she said, holding out her cupped palm.

"Yes, quite right," the Doctor said as he realized what she was after. He fished into his pocket and removed the perception filter he had retrieved from Indy. He gave it back to her and she draped it around her neck and tucked it into her tunic. As she did Indy became instantly befuddled, as she apparently vanished from sight.

"Doctor," he exclaimed in shock. "Where did Vr… V… where did… uh…"

Try as he may Indy couldn't place the name. He couldn't even place the face. He only knew that he _should know_ that someone was there.

"Here, allow me," the Doctor said as he fished another bauble from his pocket. This one was a ring. It was some manner of mechanical widget of the same type as the pendant. Without a further word he took Indy's hand and attempted to slide it on.

"Whoa, Doc," Indy protested. "I think you need to buy me a few drinks first."

Vranea giggled beside him, though he would never know it.

"Doc," the Doctor repeated. "I like it. Doc. _Doc!_ It's curt and manly, just like Indy. Now shut up and stop fussing."

Without another word the Doctor thrust the ring on Indy's finger. He was startled yet again as Vranea appeared before him.

"You could think of it as a perception filter _filter_," the Doctor said. "Without it you might become frustrated and lash out at her again. Alright, children, follow me."

They kept a brisk yet relaxed pace as they made for the main gate of Nalanda. If not for their mission, and bizarre circumstances, Indy might have considered it an enjoyable afternoon stroll. It took about half an hour, but eventually they reached the gate. It was heavily fortified and an extremely well muscled guard approached as they came near. He was flanked on either side by two underlings who were no less muscled.

"Halt, what business have you in Nalanda?"

"We are here to visit the library," the Doctor said confidently.

"The library is for students and faculty, honored guests and the priesthood," the guard said, studying their peculiar dress closely. "You appear to be neither. State your business here!"

"Sir, we have traveled from the heart of Europa," Indy said. "We have heard of the wealth of wisdom contained here and we only seek enlightenment."

The guard said nothing but stood before them, clearly unfazed.

"Allow me," the Doctor said, stepping forward. He said nothing to the guard but pulled something like a billfold wallet from his jacket pocket. He showed it to the guard who bore an astonished, and even fearful, look upon his face.

"Oh, my," he said, his face growing pale. "By the invitation of Shakyashribhadra himself! Of course you may pass, honored guests," he said as he bowed deeply in penance. "Please, forgive me. Open the gate!"

The gate spread wide before them and the trio passed through into the legendary university.

"Doctor, what was that," Indy asked as the gate closed behind them.

The Doctor said nothing, but removed the billfold from his pocket. He passed it to Indy who opened it. Inside was nothing but a piece of plain, white paper.

"It's called psychic paper," the Doctor said. "It gets in your head and shows you whatever I need you to see."

"But I didn't see anything."

"Look again."

Indy complied, but couldn't quite make sense of what he was reading.

"Federal bikini inspector?"

The Doctor smirked like a schoolboy while Vranea rolled her eyes beside him.

"But isn't the Bikini Atoll in the Marshall Islands? What do they have to do with anything? And why would you want to inspect there?"

"Yeah, well… nevermind!" the doctor said, snatching the paper back from Indy. "So, our next step should be to ask for directions to the library."

"No need. It's that big shiny one off in the distance. The one that's covered in jewels."

"How do you know," Vranea asked.

"That's what the legends say. They call it the 'Ocean of Gems'."

Indy's predictions regarding the size of the complex were spot on, and then some. It took them nearly three quarters of an hour and they passed two campuses before they finally reached the library. Unlike the main gate the doors were splayed wide open, welcoming staff and faculty alike. The trio stepped through, drawing bizarre sidelong glances from the students as they did.

"Doctor, shouldn't we be wearing costumes, or something," Indy asked into the Doctor's ear.

"Why?"

"Well, they're sure to know we don't belong, aren't they? Because of our dress?"

"Rubbish," the Doctor decried. "If you saw an Arab walking through your university would you presume he was nefariously up to no good just because he was wearing an eastern tunic and a head dress? We'll draw a few curious glances, of course. But nothing more."

They approached a man whom they assumed to be the librarian. He had the universal demeanor of almost all librarians. Both Indy and the Doctor could agree on that. He had several new scrolls and parchments at his left and he was cataloguing them in a scroll to his right. He raised his head as they approached and bore a shocked glance as they drew near.

"Welcome to the Dharmaganja," he said, eyeing them suspiciously. "May I help you,"

"I think you're on, Dr. Jones," the Doctor said, elbowing Indy in the ribs. "This is _your _department, I believe."

"And what should I say?"

"I have found the truth works remarkably well."

"If you say so," Indy said as he stepped before the librarian. "Hello, sir, I'm Professor Indiana Jones and I was wondering if I could have a look at your catalogue?"

"A professor," the librarian said, setting his scroll aside. "Are you new? I don't recognize you."

"I'm not from this university. I am from Marshall College."

"Marshall College? I'm unfamiliar with it."

"It's in… _Europa_. We've traveled a great distance to study at your library. We are here by invitation of Shakyashribhadra."

"Are you? Do you have the invitation?"

The Doctor stepped forward and flashed the psychic paper. The librarians eyes widened when he saw it.

"Honored guests indeed," he said. "Very well. You can find the catalogue down the hall to your right."

"Thank you," Indy said as they left him to his work. The librarian never responded but only went back to cataloguing his new acquisitions.

"Out of curiosity," the librarian said as they walked away. "What wisdom do you seek?"

"We seek knowledge of the Eternal Crypt," Indy replied.

The students and most faculty in the room carried on about their business, not understanding what he was talking about. But the librarian raised his head and looked at them strangely from the corner of his eye.

"You seek the Crypt," he said.

"You know of it?"

The librarian nodded.

"I know the legend. Why do you seek it?"

"Others pursue its power. They would use it to dominate life. We seek to stop them."

"I see. But be warned, Dr. Jones, death follows the Crypt. It is cursed, as is its occupant. See that you do not share this curse."

"Can you help me? I would take any wisdom you care to share."

"I can offer you nothing more than I already have," the librarian said as he returned to his work. "If you are worthy then you will find it."

"And if I'm not?"

"Then you will share the curse. Good luck, Dr. Jones."

With that last cryptic warning still echoing in his ears, the party set off to find the catalogue. They found it without much trouble, though it wasn't what Indy was used to. Rather than a neatly indexed card catalogue the Nalanda catalogue was the size of an entire room. And not a small one. It took Indy some time to acclimatize himself to their system of categorization, but he learned its basics all the same.

It was not a short search. The three of them poured over scrolls for many an hour while student and faculty came and went around them. They certainly got a good show as they did for Vranea was still wearing her perception filter. And so the passers by bore the strangers one peculiar sidelong glance after another as they listened to only two thirds of the trio's conversation.

"Alright, so I'll start under 'Mysteries of the Ancients,'" the Doctor said. "And… I don't know where to find a toilet."

"Okay, I'll start in 'Indus Antiquities'," Indy said. "Then we should focus on… indoor plumbing? Not for another few centuries years. Sorry."

"This scroll is proving fruitless so… What? Well, be a big girl and hold it… Oh, just like a cat!"

"Why do you keep saying that, Doctor?"

The others in the room were startled as Indy burst into rolling laughter for no apparent reason.

"Not _magic_," the Doctor spat angrily. "Science!"

The search was long and hard. Dusk had well set upon them before Vranea finally found their answers by the flickering candle light. And well in time, too, for the librarian had only given them another hour before he would be forced to close up and lock them out. But find it she did, her eyes seeing better in the dark. Indy and the Doctor now gathered around her to review her findings.

"According to this," she said, pointing at one line on the scroll, "the clues are kept in 3 separate vaults on campus. The vaults are in the basement of 3 buildings; the Ratnasagara, the Ratnadadhi and the Ratnaranjaka. Do you know where those are, Indy?"

"Yes. We're actually in the first one, the Ratnasgara, the Ocean of Gems. It's where they kept their most sacred writings like the Samajguhya and the Prajnaparamita Sutra."

"Ah yes, the _Prajnaparamita Sutra,_" the Doctor said, elbowing Indy in the ribs. "Loads of spicy reading in that one, eh?"

"You've got the wrong 'Sutra', Doctor," Indy replied plainly. "It means the 'Perfection of Wisdom'. The other two buildings are actually the other two towers in the library. It makes sense that they would keep such valuable artifacts safely in the library."

"So where's the vaults?" Vranea asked.

"I have no idea," he said gravely.

"What do you mean you have no idea," the Doctor asked. "Aren't ancient ruins your forte?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but these aren't ancient ruins. In my day only about ten percent of this site had been excavated and the library wasn't among them. And local legends made no mention of the library having a basement, let alone vaults, so there's no way I could have known. But this is definitely progress. Good work, Vranea."

"So what now," Vranea said with a hearty smile, soaking in the complement.

"Now we find the librarian," the Doctor said as he made for the door. "He's going to tell us where the vault is."

"Oh, really," Indy said, halting the Doctor in his place. "And what makes you so sure he is going to just let us into the vault where they keep their most sacred treasures?"

Once again the Doctor whipped out his psychic paper and flashed it for all to see.

"Have you forgotten, my friend," he said triumphantly. "We are here under direct invitation of the Shakyashribhadra himself! How could he refuse?"

They made their way back to reception where the librarian was waiting. He was studying a stack of manuscripts by candle light. He raised his head and greeted them as they approached.

"I trust you've found what you needed," he said, meeting their gaze.

"Yes, thank you," Indy replied. "But now I'm afraid I must ask for access to your vaults."

"Our vaults? I'm sorry, but access to the vaults is restricted to university faculty only."

The Doctor said nothing but only whipped out his psychic paper. The librarian grew noticeably irritated as he regarded the document.

"Very well," he said, an irritated sigh escaping his nostrils. "But I will be bringing this up to Shakyashribhadra in the morning. I take exception to being put upon by surprise guests at a moments notice."

"Of course," Indy said with a smile. "Please feel free. Everything will be clear in the morning."

"Indeed. Follow me."

The librarian lead them through a door to his rear. They passed a series of offices, with monks transcribing scrolls by candle light, before arriving in a large, open gallery. There were shelves and racks lining the walls and in rows through the room. The shelves were stuffed to overflowing with scrolls, manuscripts and other documents carefully packed into sacks and tucked into the shelves. In the middle of the room was a large, plain desk. Its surface was piled high with scrolls and manuscripts in a type of organized chaos. A water goblet could be seen half buried in the chaos.

At the far end of the room a seven foot statue of the god Vishnu could be seen overlooking the entire gallery. Behind him were the librarians sleeping quarters, which were walled off with an ornate curtain. Before Vishnu was a large circle of blue agate tiles which was contained by a rim of ornate gold edging. It very much resembled the azure pools surrounding the temples outside.

Deeply reverent and with hands clasped before him, the librarian entered the circle and stood before Vishnu. The others would have joined him but he forbade it, bidding they stay with his hands. Before the idol were four trays of offering which were set into the floor. Beside it, to the left and right, was a series of shelves holding a wide array of treasures. First the librarian went to the shelves and pulled a large cluster of jeweled grapes from among the treasures there.

"For the blessing of your bounty," he said as he placed the grapes in one of the offering bowls.

Next he removed a large, gold shield from among the treasures. It was clearly heavy and he had great difficulty carrying it. He placed it in one of the offering bowls before taking a step back and bowing to the idol.

"For the blessing of your continued protection," he said, slightly winded.

He then removed a large, ornate and bejeweled scroll from the trove placed it on another offering bowl.

"For the blessing of your wisdom," he said.

Lastly, he removed a oblong figure from the shelf. Made of crystal, it was long, curved and resembled that of a birds body. Then, moving about the shelves, he removed several more similar pieces of crystal and began connecting them to the first. Before long he had crafted a rather large, crystalline dove.

"For your continued peace and mercy," he said as he fit the last piece in place.

The offering bowls before them sank slowly into the floor, being burdened by the weight of their offerings. When they had fully sank a loud clanking and the turning of cogs echoed throughout the room. With head reverently bowed the librarian backed quickly out of the circle, away from Vishnu. Mere seconds later the azure pool before them rose several inches, until it had cleared the floor, and split before them. The two halves of the circle continued parting to reveal a torch lit staircase descending deep into the heart of the Earth.

"Wow, I never saw that coming," Vranea said as she stared down the stair well.

"I'm not the least surprised," Indy said with a smile.

"Excuse me," the librarian said, turning to face them. "Are you talking to me?"

"What? Oh, no. No. I'm just talking to no one."

"I'm not no one," Vranea said, kicking him in the shin.

"Ow! Yes, I know you're not 'no one', but… uh, I'm sorry. I was just… _muttering_."

The Doctor, meanwhile, said nothing. He only allowed a small smile to crack his lips as the scene played out before him.

"I see," the librarian said, eyeing him suspiciously. "I will not accompany you. But the eyes of Vishnu are upon you. Do not remove anything from the vault. You may look, you may touch and you may take notes but you may not take anything with you. I don't care whose authority you are under. Are we clear?"

"Yes, absolutely! And thank you."

Still eyeing them suspiciously, the librarian turned and left them to their business. When he had left the room Indy looked first at Vranea, then to the Doctor.

"Doctor, I think I'm beginning to understand you," he said as he started down the torch lit stairwell.

It was no mere vault into which they descended but rather a labyrinth. Apart from the pristine nature of the site, Dr. Jones felt quite at home. Vranea remembered in which vault the clue was stored and, after a brief moment to orient herself, she lead them through the twists and turns of the labyrinth. They had borrowed a torch from the wall and used it to light their path.

"I still can't believe that such primitive people built this," Vranea said as she led them along.

"Believe it," Indy said. "And there's evidence that they built even more amazing things. The Veda's talk about flying vehicles, called vimana's, and advanced methods of energy production that we still don't understand. They even talk of wars where they used explosives large enough to devastate entire cities. I can't imagine anyone having that much power."

"I cant imagine anyone _wanting_ that much power," Vranea added.

"Well, you had better start imagining," the Doctor said. "Because it's coming. The Second World War will be won because of this power. In part, at any rate."

"The _Second World War_," Indy said, an expression of horror set upon his face. "You mean we didn't learn from the first one?"

"No, unfortunately not. Don't get me wrong, Humans are brilliant! But remarkably slow learners, from time to time. But don't worry. It will be difficult but you lot will persevere."

"And this super bomb will help? Well, that's good, I guess."

"No, it really isn't," the Doctor added gravely. "There comes a time when one is too much. And when it comes to atomic bombs that sentiment certainly applies. Oh, quick tip," the Doctor said, halting Indy with a hand on his shoulder. "If you ever find yourself trapped in a nuclear blast, just find the nearest fridge."

"What?"

"Yes, a refrigerator. Any refrigerator. The casing will shield you from most of the radiation and shelter you as you're thrown clear of the blast."

A moment of silence passed as Indy considered his 'quick tip', a look of extreme incredulity strewn about his face.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," he said as he continued following Vranea around a corner.

"Yes, it is," the Doctor agreed. "But it works like a charm."

They continued following Vranea and soon found themselves face to face with something they did not expect. At the end of the hallway and just before their vault a lone guardian stood watch. He stood motionless before the door as the torch light danced upon his face.

"Uh Doctor, I think we have a problem," Vranea said.

"Not to worry, my dear," the Doctor said as he reached again for his psychic paper. "I've got this."

The trio continued toward the guard but if he noticed them he never showed it. He remained stoic as they came near.

"Good evening, sir," the Doctor said as they approached. "We need access to this vault. As you can see," he said, presenting the paper, "we are invited guests of Shakyashribhadra."

The monk took the paper without a word and studied it carefully.

"I see," he said at last. "And what of your female friend? Is she under invitation as well?"

Vranea gasped, once again feeling quite naked, realizing that she could be seen.

"And what of you, _Doctor,_" the monk said, reading from the paper. "That is how you style yourself, is it not? The Doctor? From Galiphrey? Last of the Time Lords? Do not worry, Doctor. I won't reveal your true name. And no real harm has been done so I won't alert the guards. But I must ask you to leave and not attempt this again. Monks of my sect are well trained to resist psychic incursion. You will get the same result from the other two vaults. But next time they will know you are coming. And next time _you will_ be arrested."

The monk handed the paper back and the Doctor received it far more sheepishly than normal. He placed it back in his pocket and lead the way as they retreated back through the labyrinth.

"How did he know so much about you, Doctor?" Vranea asked.

"The psychic paper told him," the Doctor said, a scowl deepening on his face. "It laid my entire life at his feet like an open book. I have never been more humiliated."

"So what do we do now?"

"I have no idea," he said. He desperately worked to keep his mounting frustrations under control, so he did not snap at her.

The trio walked in silence and darkness for some time after that. But as they were nearing the exit of the vault Indy's eyes lit up and he halted the Doctor with his own and on the shoulder.

"I have it, Doctor," Indy said, meeting the Doctors gaze. A scowl was still set upon his face, but it softened as Indy presented his plan. "Your ship can hover, yes?"

"That's right," the Doctor said.

"Can you take pictures while hovering?"

"Pictures?"

"Yes. Like aerial photographs?"

His scowl disappeared and his eyes lit up as he caught on to Indy's plan.

"Yes! Oh, absolutely yes!"

"What is it," Vranea asked, noticing his excitement. "How does this help."

"We take pictures of the city as it is and make a map of it," Indy said. "Then we go back to the '30's and compare it to the ruins. We use the excavated ruins as a reference point and use the map to find where the library is located. We already know where the vaults are, at least in this building, so we just walk in and take the artifacts; _without_ the monk guardian. Just like walking into Modo. Right, Doctor?"

"Well… it's _Mordor_ actually," the Doctor corrected him. "I should show you that movie before this is done. But yes. That's essentially correct."

"I don't mean to pee on your parade," Vranea said. "But that won't work. Didn't the Turks loot and burn everything? What makes you think there will be anything left?"

"They didn't loot everything," Indy said. "They only looted _what they could see_!"

"That's right," the Doctor added. "These vaults are well hidden under a false floor. They surely will have looted the agate floor tiles, but the floor itself should be intact. Chances are the invaders simply won't be looking for advanced, super secret hidden doors so they won't find them. If we can open it we will have unrestricted access to the vaults."

"That's _if_ we can open it at all after a thousand years," Vranea said.

"One crisis at a time, my dear," the Doctor said as he made for the exit with renewed vigor.

They thanked the librarian for his help on their way out and retreated with all haste to the Tardis. The sun had long set after them and the librarian had graciously held the door for them longer than he had intended. A full moon had risen overhead and cast its pale, blue light on the campus grounds. A late night chill had set upon them, making the air crisp and clean. The walk wasn't unpleasant, though they were in far too much of a rush to enjoy it. They passed through the gate and arrived back at the Tardis about an hour after leaving the library.

The Tardis never put up a fight as the Doctor inserted his key, likely sensing his rising excitement and possibly sharing it. He opened the door effortlessly and rushed to the console, not even stopping to remove his jacket. Indy had barely shut the door behind him before the Doctor sent the Tardis into the time vortex. They emerged only seconds later and the Doctor called up an image on his view screen.

"Where are we, Doctor," Indy said as he rushed beside him.

"The same place," the Doctor responded. "About a thousand feet up. It's also noon of the next day. I thought more light would make for a clearer image."

"Good thinking."

The Doctors hands worked on the controls under the view screens gentle glow.

"Got it! The image is saved. Next stop, 900 years in the future."

Indy and Vranea watched the screen as the Doctor prepared to send the Tardis again into the time vortex. Below them students went to class, faculty held debates in the great halls and temples and wisdom seekers from all over the known world studied in the great Ocean of Gems. And, somewhere down there, a librarian probably got into a great deal of trouble for allowing unknown strangers into the libraries vault.

"Doctor, isn't there anything we can do for them," Vranea asked as she watched the people going about their business on the screen. "In a few years all these people will be dead. Is there no way we can warn them?"

"I'm afraid not, my dear," the Doctor replied solemnly. "Some events in time and space are fixed. This is one of them. We could erase this event from history, but then how would Humanity learn from it? How would they grow? But it would still happen, all the same. In a different time, a different place and to different people but it would still happen. Most likely worse than it happened here. Sometime the best thing to do, sometimes the _only _thing to do is to let the storm hit and brace for it when it does."

The Tardis entered the time vortex and Indy and Vranea watched as the imaged faded from the view screen. Seconds later the ship emerged from the vortex and a new image filled the screen. It was of the same area, but far more desolate. Almost nothing of the original campus remained. Most of the area lay in ruins but for a few reddish brown buildings in the center of the screen.

The Doctor hit a few more controls and the image of the campus as it was overlaid the map. He looked to the ruins and found their corresponding buildings on their pre destruction map. The Doctor lined them up and they fit perfectly. He adjusted the map so it was centered on the screen and stood back to admire his handiwork.

"Right here," Indy said pointing to a trinary complex of buildings in the center of the map. "That's the library. You see the largest one? That's the Ocean of Gems. Doctor, do you have a way to save these locations?"

"Not to worry," the Doctor said as he plugged his sonic screwdriver into the receptacle. "I have an app for that."

"How is your screwdriver going to get us into the vault?"

"It's not just a screwdriver. It's downloading the coordinates of the ruins. It will lead us straight there."

"So it's a map, too?"

"It's a map, screwdriver, camera, hacking tool, anything I need."

"Then why call it a screwdriver? Why not call it your sonic multi tool?"

"What's that thing on your head?"

"What? It's my hat."

"Why do you call it a hat? Why not fedora? Or chapeau? Or boushi? Or sombrero? Or a _kitten_?"

"Because it's _my hat_."

"Why?"

"Because it just is, that's why."

"Well, there you go. It just is. Alright, kids," the Doctor said after he had retrieved his screwdriver and landed the ship. "Let's go exploring."

The trio disembarked from the ship and immediately followed the Doctor and his screwdriver through the ruins. It was hard to believe that this place had been a thriving hub of learning and enlightenment only a thousand years prior. If they hadn't been there to see it first hand then Indy and Vranea might not believe it themselves. Where temples once rose from azure pools now only trees grew in their stead. Once students and teachers sat sheltered from the harsh noonday sun, debating philosophy under shaded pagodas. Now deer and local cattle trod and grazed upon once sacred ground. And the walls, those great walls which kept the students from harm, were no where in sight.

Eventually the Doctor stopped, scanning the ground with his screwdriver. He held it aloft to examine it closely before clicking it off. The forest had swallowed much of the rest of the ruins but the patch of ground upon which they stood was remarkably free of large trees but for the occasional shrub.

"Here we are, the Ocean of Gems," the Doctor said, kicking the dust with his feet. "Place has changed a little, hasn't it?"

"Where is everything," Vranea asked.

"Gone," Indy replied. "Destroyed by the Turks, carted off by looters or scavenged by local farmers. Often there's nothing left at dig sites like these because looters pick them clean before hand. Speaking of the site, Doctor, where exactly are we?"

"According the screwdriver we should be standing directly before the secret opening to the Ratnasagara vault."

"Well then we've got some work ahead of us," Indy said, crossing his arms before him. "We should head to the nearest town and round up some help from the villagers. With a few dozen strong backs we can probably have this site cleared in a couple weeks…"

"No need, no need. I have an app for that, too. Quickly, both of you get behind me and cover your ears."

The pair complied and retreated behind the Doctor as he clicked a few buttons on the screwdriver and brought it to bear on the dusty patch of ground before them. When they were safely behind him, the Doctor activated the screwdriver and it emitted something like a high pitched whine directly before him. The noise grew in pitch and intensity until it created a wave before it. The wave scoured the sandy earth before them and brushed it away as sand blowing off of a beach. Before long the entire circular gate was cleared but for the odd bit of brush which toppled over with nothing to support it at the root.

"Nicely done, Doctor," Indy said as he stepped near. "I wish I had you at all of my digs. Now, how to get it open. The idol and its mechanisms are long gone."

"Not a problem," the Doctor said as he pointed the screwdriver at the door. He clicked a few buttons and it chimed at his command. From within they heard the muffled groaning of the gears grinding against each other and the gate began to open. It was much slower than before, millennia of neglect taking its toll. Eventually the doors stalled as the mechanisms driving them seized up, leaving only about a foot and a half of space to crawl through.

"That's all you'll get, I'm afraid," the Doctor said, lowering his screwdriver. "Time and neglect don't play well with gears and cogs."

"That's alright, Doctor. We should be able to manage. But it's rather dark down there. I don't suppose you have any flashlights back on the Tardis?"

"I've got one better," the Doctor said as he raised his screwdriver to the sky. "Ahem… _Lumos Maxima_!"

At his command the end of his screwdriver glowed brightly with a vibrant whitish green light. He smiled at his creation and looked to Indy proudly for a response, but all he got a void, blank stare strewn across Indy's face.

"Ugh, whatever," the Doctor sighed. "But I'll have you know that your great grandchildren would have died laughing!"

"They really would have," Vranea agreed.

Without another word the Doctor bent and picked up a dead branch at his feet. He held it to the screwdriver and set it alight. It was a strange flame. Greenish blue, as the screwdriver itself, but with no smoke. As Indy accepted it from the Doctor he brought his hand near and felt no heat.

"I wouldn't do that," the Doctor warned as Indy tried to pass his hand through the flame.

"Why not? Is it dangerous?"

"Not at all. Acne."

"Acne?"

"Yes, wicked hand acne. And you don't know frustration until you've tried to eradicate a breakout of finger pimples, let me tell you. So, you get the clue from this vault and I'll get the one in the Ratnadadhi vault. Vranea, you go with Indy."

"What? No," she protested. "Give me a torch and I'll go get the other clue from the other vault."

"That's not sensible, my dear. We only have one screwdriver. I can only open one vault at a time. The amount of time we might save, by the time I opened your vault and walked back to mine, would be negligible. And besides, you aren't used to diving into old ruins."

"And you are?"

"Yes, I am. I've been around a while and I've done this before. You haven't. So yes, you will stick next to Dr. Jones and use your keener senses to guide him. And once I have retrieved my artifact and you yours we will meet up and retrieve the one from the Ratnaranjaka vault."

"Fine," she said as she grabbed the torch from Indy's hand. "But I'm holding the torch!"

"Whatever makes you happy. I'll meet you back here."

The Doctor turned and made for his own vault as Indy and Vranea squeezed down into their own. Their journey was surreal, to say the least, as they traversed the labyrinthine corridors of the vault. They walked these halls only a little better than an hour ago. The smell of the torches on the walls was still fresh in their minds, though it was bereft of this dead place. Roots from the trees and shrubs above had seeped in and hung like clawing fingers reaching down toward them. Their feet left impressions that they did not before as they tracked through a heavy layer of dust which had seeped through the cracks in the brickwork just above their heads. After a time of walking down this strangely familiar, yet distant, path they came upon their vault. Before it a lone guardian still stood vigil, though he had long been reduced to bones and bits of tattered cloth on the floor. Vranea looked at him with jaw agape as he flickered in the greenish torch light.

"Is that…"

"Yeah, that's him," Indy said as he bent down for a closer look.

"Why didn't he run?"

"Where would he go? There was one way in and one way out. And I don't know if you noticed, but I only saw one way to open that door. So when the Turks attacked he was saved from them. But that must have been small comfort. Soon after the torches would have gone out. This poor devil died alone and in the dark."

"He just let himself die?"

"What else was he going to do? Besides, this was his life's calling. These monks were incredibly disciplined and loyal. He probably considered it an honor to be here, right up until the end. He probably stood guard until he collapsed from exhaustion. Hold the light a little closer."

Vranea complied and Indy fished inside the tatters of the old mans robes. Soon he brought forward a delicate looking chain with a key ring on the end. He brushed off the dust and stood before the door. He fit one of the keys into the lock but it wouldn't turn. He gradually cycled through the keys until he found one that would fit. It took some effort but the lock turned and the door swung ajar before him.

"Alright, Vranea, stay behind me. Keep that light well over my head. I need to see _everything_. Always remember, you step where I step. You do what I do. And you never _ever_ touch anything."

"Is it going to be dangerous?"

"That's hard to say. Intellectual societies like this usually don't booby trap their treasures. That's usually reserved for the more superstitious ones. But even so, it's better safe than sorry. Just remember, the two most important rules are you do what I do and you step where I step. Remember those, if nothing else."

Vranea nodded and they pushed their way into the room. Astonishingly, the room was rather empty. The small, narrow space had but one occupant. At the far end of the room, the green torch light dancing upon it, a lone chest sat waiting. They approached cautiously and Vranea kept a close eye on Indy for any queue to run. When they had reached it Indy knelt before the chest and again began fitting keys into the lock. He eventually found one that fit and the lock turned remarkably effortlessly. Inside was a single scroll.

"It's parchment," he said as he removed his jacket and set it on the ground. As gingerly as he was able he removed the scroll and set it on his jacket. Then he rolled it loosely and cradled it as one might a newborn baby.

"What are you doing?"

"Parchment that's been locked away for centuries can be extremely sensitive. Especially to sunlight. Any exposure can disintegrate it almost instantly. Countless artifacts have been lost because careless archaeologists tried to unroll a scroll in broad daylight without acclimatizing it first. The scroll usually disintegrates in his hands, its secrets lost forever."

And so, cradling his newly found parchment, Indy followed Vranea and her light back through the labyrinth. They waited at the mouth of the stairwell for a few long minutes before the Doctor finally caught up with them. But when he came he was empty handed. There was no parchment on him.

"Doctor, where is the artifact," Indy asked impatiently.

"No worries, Indy, no worries," he said as he flashed his screwdriver. "It's all here. I trust you were also successful then?"

"That's right," Indy said as he showed the Doctor his bundled jacket.

"Excellent! Let's have a look."

Without a thought, and before Indy could stop him, the Doctor flipped open the jacket and began scanning the scroll. The reaction was as Indy predicted and it immediately began disintegrating in the sunlight.

"Doctor, no!"

Indy recoiled in horror and flipped the folds of his jacket back around the scroll. After he had backed away a few paces, the Doctor confused and befuddled before him, he peeked inside to check the scroll. When he did he breathed a deep sigh of defeat before shooting the Doctor a look of the most dreadful ire.

"What," the Doctor asked, perplexed at Indy's sudden demeanor.

In response Indy opened the folds of his jacket, allowing the contents to fall to the ground. There wasn't much. Only dust and tatters which drifted away in the wind.

"Oh."

"Oh? _Oh?!_ You just _destroyed_ one of our clues and all you can say is _oh_!"

"I didn't destroy it," the Doctor replied, holding up his screwdriver. "It's right here. I quantum scanned it. Like what I did with the documents in the Presidents office. It's better this way. We can just upload the files to my computer and reconstruct it from there. Okay?"

Indy said nothing at first. He merely glowered as he shook the dust from his jacket.

"Next time warn a guy," he said as he put his jacket back on.

"Will do! Now, let's get that last clue."

They made their way to the third and final vault and the Doctor opened it much as before. It opened wider this time, wide enough that they didn't need to squeeze through, at any rate. But before they entered the Doctor took Indy's torch and cast it to the ground. It flickered out shortly thereafter.

"We won't be needing that," the Doctor said as he again set the tip of the screwdriver alight. "Just follow me. I know the way."

They took a different path through the labyrinth than they did with the Ratnaranjaka vault. But no matter how the path twisted or turned the Doctor still lead them expertly through it.

"Doctor, how exactly do you know where we're going," Indy asked.

"I've programmed the screwdriver to lock in on any human remains. If it's like the other vault the only remains in here should be the ones of the keeper."

The Doctor was right. Soon they found this keepers remains in rags and tatters just as the other. Indy again fished through his robes and emerged with a key ring. He fit the key in the lock and it turned fitfully as the other had. The lock on the chest was the only thing that gave them some modicum of trouble. But the Doctor took care of that easily enough with the screwdriver. Then, with the chest open, he reached in and scanned it with the screwdriver.

"Okay, good job everyone," he said as he held the screwdriver and its light aloft. "Let's go."

"Wait, so that's it," Vranea said, being clearly disappointed. "Just grab what we need and go? What about the adventure?"

"That's it," Indy said with a smile. "Nine times out of ten this is what archaeology is. The only time we have any 'adventure' is when something goes horribly wrong."

"But what about the artifact? We aren't just going to leave it here, are we?"

"Actually, given how the Doctor destroyed the last artifact, I think it's safer here."

"Right, so artifact obtained and mischief evaded," the Doctor said. "Let's go decode our clues before I break any other priceless relics of Human history, shall we?"

The Doctor led them out as uneventfully as he led them in. Within a mere five minutes they had re-entered the Tardis and the Doctor had uploaded the images to his computer. The three gathered around his view screen as he unrolled his virtual copy of the first scroll. As he did letters began emerging, though they were not printed on the parchment but appeared to be branded into it.

"Why are the letters branded into the paper," Vranea asked. "Wouldn't that damage the paper?"

"It's not paper," Indy corrected her. "It's parchment. It's made from leather; skin, basically. This parchment was probably made from the skin of the last priest to bear the clue."

"Ugh, that's disgusting! Doctor, why are you so enamored with these people?"

"Humans aren't all flesh scrolls and holocausts, my dear," the Doctor said as he continued unrolling the virtual scroll. "There's great beauty for every act of great horror. One day I'll show you that."

"I'll take your word for it. So, what does it say?"

"The first clue says;

_'The Crypt, the scourge of ages, lies chained in the Vault of Eternity. It's place of judgment known only to the Knower of Secrets.'_

"Does that mean anything to you, Dr. Jones?"

"No, not yet," Indy replied. "Hopefully the other clues will give us some context. What does the next say?"

The Doctor unrolled the next scroll and read it aloud.

_"The mountains of the gods cast shadows on the fertile dragon as it slithers past."_

"I think we're getting closer," Indy said. "At least now we have a frame of reference. But 'the mountains of the gods' could literally be anywhere. I could name half a dozen mountain ranges called 'mountains of the gods' by local populations in Asia alone. What does the next one say?"

The Doctor unrolled the next scroll and read it aloud.

_"The cherub stands guard, safely beneath the hunters girdle, and Atons shadow is long over it."_

Indy's eyes grew wide at the last clue and a smile cracked the corners of his mouth.

"Indy, what is it," Vranea said, noting his expression. "Do you have something?"

"I think I do," he replied. "Not the full location, but at least a starting point. Look here," he said pointing to one section of text. "Where it says 'Atons shadow'. 'Aton' is an ancient Egyptian sun god. And the pharaoh's were considered living gods by the people who constructed elaborate, pyramid tombs for them. The 'mountains of the gods' are obviously the pyramids. And this word, the 'fertile dragon'. That word can be literally translated as dragon, but we're missing the context. The contextual translation should be _serpent._ It should read it casts its shadows on the 'fertile serpent as it slithers past.' This obviously represents the Nile."

"But the Nile does not run by the pyramids," the Doctor protested.

"It did between four and five thousands years ago. Rivers tend to wander, Doctor. Four thousand years ago the shadows of the 'mountains of the gods' literally fell on the 'fertile serpent' as it flowed past."

"Excellent work, Dr. Jones. What about the next clue?"

"Well, 'the cherub stands guard' could refer to the sphinx. Cherubs are known for having the bodies of lions and the faces of men. So that fits. As for the hunters girdle, I must admit I'm at a loss."

"Perhaps this will help," the Doctor said. He closed the image before him and called up a star chart with the constellation of Orion at its center. He focused on Orion's belt while he pulled a satellite picture of the Giza plateau up on the screen.

"Now, watch this, Dr. Jones."

Slowly the Doctor laid the images one on top of the other. He maneuvered them so that the stars of Orion's belt were over the locations of the pyramids. After some slight adjusting for scale they fit perfectly.

"Well I'll be damned," Indy said, his smile widening on his face. "The great pyramids are in the shape of Orions's belt. The 'hunters girdle.' So now we know the Crypts relative location. It's somewhere in or near the Giza plateau."

"What about the next clue," Vranea prodded. "That must give us the location, right?"

"Presumably yes," Indy said as the smile disappeared from his face. "But I can't make heads or tails of it. I have no idea what this 'Vault of Eternity' is. And as for the 'Knower of Secrets', I have no clue."

"So, are we back to square one?"

"Not at all. We know more than we did five minutes ago. We may not know it's final location, but we're damn close. Besides," Indy said, once again allowing a knowing smile to creep across his face. "I have a certain friend in Egypt who may just be able to help."

* * *

The private cleaned the blood off his knuckles as he regarded the bound prisoner before him with the disdain one might reserve for a sickly dog. The prisoner slumped lifelessly in his chair. His hair was greasy, matted by neglect and caked with blood. His mouth hung open and he drooled a mix of blood and saliva into the curly hair of his beard. Much in spite of himself, the prisoner's drool landed on his interrogators jackboot. He was rewarded with a vicious backhand that would have knocked him unconscious if he wasn't nearly there already. Instead he allowed a barely audible groan to escape his throat.

"Arab swine," the private growled as he cleaned the fresh blood from his hand.

"Soldat Schneider, is that anyway to treat our guest?"

From the door behind another officer entered the room. This man was extremely well kept, in comparison to the grungy private before him. The beard of his face was trimmed with exacting precision as were the hairs of his head. His uniform was pressed, starched and without a speck of dust, even in this arid desert. Even his boots gleamed vibrantly and without a trace of filth. On his shoulders he bore a green epaulet, the mark of a general in the German army.

"Hehr Oberst," the private said in greeting. Ignoring the remaining blood on his knuckles, he raised his hand high, clicked his boots and gave a hearty salute. "Seig heil!"

The general never said anything in return but gave a lazy salute of his own.

"Have you learned anything from our guest," the general asked as he came near.

"Negative, Hehr Oberst," the private replied.

"Please, these bizarre German titles are loathe to me," he said with a dismissive wave. "Call me Raemsteht."

The private seemed stunned at the generals slack attitude toward discipline.

"Mein hehr?"

"Or Hehr Raemsteht, if you feel the need to be proper. But what are we going to do with you," he said as he knelt before the prisoner. "I hear you're being rather stubborn. We can't have that."

The prisoner never said anything in response. He only raised his head, shakily and slowly, to look the general in the eye. Though with only one eye, for the other had swollen shut. Oberst Raemsteht merely smiled, a deep malevolence hiding behind a pair of otherwise friendly eyes.

"Leave us," he ordered his subordinate.

"Mein hehr, are you…"

"Do you think this beaten and bound man is going to get the drop on me," the general interrupted. "Leave us."

When the private had left the general removed a handkerchief from his pocket.

"Now, this is how it is going to work," he said as he began sopping up the rivulets of blood flowing freely down the mans face. "I'm going to ask you some questions and I expect honest and prompt answers. If I don't get them I'll call Soldat Schneider back. Do you understand?"

The man never responded, but the general saw a flash of understanding in his eye all the same.

"Excellent," the general said with a smile. "Now, Sallah, let's start from the top."


	4. Chapter 4: Cairo at Night

Indy was somewhat irritated with the Doctor as they set down just on the outskirts of Cairo. He had hoped to go straight to Sallah's house and begin their search for the Vault of Eternity. He pleaded the urgency of their mission to the Doctor but he wouldn't hear it.

"Rubbish," the Doctor decried, rebuffing Indy's pleading with a dismissive wave of the hand. "What's the point of having a time machine if you're in a hurry all the time? Don't spend so much time crawling through tombs that you forget to live, Dr. Jones."

And so, with the matter decided, they disembarked the ship and began their trek into the city.

Some cities sleep as the days light wanes and some never truly wake until their softer members go to slumber. Cairo is one of them. The sky above their heads had darkened and the horizon had become ablaze with crimson and gold. But, though the hour was late, that doesn't mean the city slept. Even now the shops remained open even as the Muzim's call to evening prayer echoed over their heads.

"What's that," Vranea asked as the Muzim intoned verses of the Quran for their followers.

"That's the Muslim call to prayer," Indy answered. "Five times a day Muslim clerics, called Muzims, put out the call to prayer and Muslims go to their mosques to pray in response."

"What are they singing?"

"Verses from the Quran, the Muslim holy scriptures."

"You see, my dear," the Doctor added. "A departure from flesh scrolls and holocausts, wouldn't you agree?"

After a time they were greeted by one of the locals, a rotund little man with a desperate comb over. He greeted them as old friends, though none had seen him before. His conversation with them started almost mid stream. It was almost as though they had entered a theater halfway through a well rehearsed play.

"Hello, dear friends," he said cheerfully, his arms wide and welcoming. "I just got off work. Can you believe it? What a long day. I'm an engineer. My wife, Neema, is a seamstress. But where are my manners, I'm Bes. Welcome to Cairo! Please, let me show you around."

"That won't be necessary," Indy said, halting Bes with one hand. "We can find our own way, but thank..."

"Rubbish," the Doctor interrupted. He walked up and put a friendly arm around Bes's shoulder. "Bes, is it? Sir, we would be honored if you would show us around your fair city!"

"Doctor, we really shouldn't..."

"Nonsense," the Doctor said dismissively. He extended his hand to Bes who shook it warmly. "Bes, I'm the Doctor."

"Oh, a doctor! A doctor of what, sir?"

The Doctor wasn't offended. He couldn't have been offended at the portly little man's open smile if he tried. Instead he simply allowed a coy smile of his own to curl his lips before responding.

"Indy, it seems you are in good company. It's just 'the Doctor,' actually. This is Dr. Indiana Jones, an archaeologist."

"Professor, actually," Indy said, extending his hand.

"Oh, excellent," Bes said, shaking his hand. "I knew you had the look of a lettered man."

"And this fair maiden is Vranea," the Doctor said as he gestured toward her.

It took some pleading on the Doctors part, but eventually Vranea agreed to leave her perception filter on the Tardis. Now she bore a long sleeve dress and a conservative head wrap to hide the majority of her markings.

"Always a pleasure," Bes said as he took her hand. Vranea couldn't help but flush slightly as he kissed it gently.

"Alright, you smooth operator," the Doctor said as he tugged Bes's shoulder. "Where to first?"

First, insisting that they must be parched, he took them into one of the side shops. It was a place he said he knew well. And indeed he greeted the shop owner there with as much kindred warmth as he had offered them. He bought them each a drink, though none for himself. It was something called sobiah, a mix of milk and coconut. He said that it would "open the appetite". They talked there as the trio finished their drink before again heading into the streets.

He lead them first through the thicket of camels and carts to a nearby mosque where they observed the faithful finishing up their daily prayers. Men and boys were lined up to pray. They knelt and bowed toward Mecca, as the Muzim continued intoning the Quran over them.

Afterward they continued walking and talking. The Muzim grew silent as the last call to prayer was answered but the streets did not. Some shops remained open as the daylight faded, though at a slower pace. Eventually their meandering path took them down an alley where they passed several old men smoking a hookah and drinking cups of sweet tea. Again, Bes greeted them warmly and the men offered them a seat. There weren't enough to go around, so Indy chose to stand and offered his seat to Vranea. Bes and the men seemed to know each other, or at least they acted like it.

The men offered them some of their sweet tea and the party accepted it gladly. Especially Vranea, though she was disappointed when she realized that it didn't have caffeine. Eventually she broke the conversation by saying that she was hungry. To which Bes claimed he had just the remedy. He lead them through the narrow alleys and side streets to a small, open air restaurant tucked behind one of the larger buildings. It looked as though they were beginning to close shop, with most of their tables being vacant at this late hour. But they welcomed the business anyway and Bes soon found them a seat.

"This is my favorite place to eat," he said as he settled into his seat. "Just don't tell my wife! I will order for you, if you don't mind. And, please, I insist that you let me pay. They will overcharge you. You can repay me after."

He ordered and soon a server, who Bes introduced as the owners daughter, brought them each a bowl of pasta, chickpeas and rice in a tomato sauce.

"This is Kushari," Bes said proudly. "It's Egypt's official dish. You'll taste none better!"

And certainly it was delicious. Far better than even Indy could remember having in the city, except perhaps at Sallah's home. Bes also ordered them some more sweet tea. He ordered a coffee for Vranea, at her request, and she accepted it gladly. She never chugged it as before, feeling both Indy and the Doctor's warning eyes upon her, but sipped it gingerly as a local might. When their meal was nearing an end Bes rose to cover the tab. At the other end of the restaurant he spoke in hushed tones with the owner, no doubt haggling over the bill. While he was away Indy leaned in close and spoke into the Doctor's ear.

"Doctor, you realize we're being taken for a ride, don't you?"

"Well, of course I do!"

"What? You know?"

"Of course."

"How are we being taken for a ride," Vranea asked from behind her coffee. She had shown remarkable restraint over the course of their meal and had only drained the cup by half. "He seems so nice."

"It's a scam they pull on tourists and sailors that come through these parts, my dear," the Doctor replied. "A friendly local greets unsuspecting newcomers and gives them a full tour of the city. He takes them shopping, to cafes and tea houses, restaurants and such, naturally paying for everything so the out-of-towners don't get overcharged. Then, at the end of the day, he asks to be compensated for the money he's spent."

"But the amount he quotes will be at least twice what he spent," Indy added.

"Precisely."

"Well, that's kind of skeevy," Vranea said, shooting a daggered gaze to Bes as he settled the bill with the owner.

"Doctor, how could you go along with this knowing that we were being taken?" Indy asked.

"You're looking at this from entirely the wrong perspective," the Doctor replied. "Both of you. Think about what we've experienced today. We've heard the Muslim call to prayer and seen the devoted piety of the faithful. We've drunk sweet tea, smoked hookah and experienced the warmth of a culture some could only dream to experience. We've had a meal surely among the finest I've ever tasted and that's not even to mention the company. You must agree, Bes has been a marvelous host thus far. Has his companionship not been worth whatever paltry sum he would charge us for it? All tourists should be blessed to have such a guide and they would gladly pay for one such as him. Granted, the trickery is distasteful. But, considering what he has given us, I think you are being most ungrateful. Both of you."

Indy and Vranea shared remorseful glances as Bes returned to the table. He clasped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, that open smile still wide upon that plump face.

"It is settled, my friends. It is settled," he said as he approached. "He is an old friend so he gave me a good price. We are all friends here!"

He laughed heartily at that last as though it should be funny. The Doctor laughed heartily along with him and Indy and Vranea offered furtive smiles of their own.

"Come, my friends, come. There is much more to see and even this city must sleep some time! You're not tired, are you?"

"Of course not, my good man," the Doctor said, rising to his feet. "Lead the way. What's next?"

Their conversation was boisterous and lively as Bes continued their night tour of Cairo. Though the conversation was mostly between Bes and the Doctor who seemed to have connected as kindred spirits. Bes, the charismatic hustler and the Doctor, his willing and eager mark.

Indy, for his part, took the Doctors words to heart. Setting Bes's glaring deception aside, he soon began seeing the city from a new perspective while Bes and the Doctor bantered as old friends before him. They walked through the market, which was still open at even this late hour, and the air seemed to pulse with an energy he had seldom noticed. Gutted chickens still hung from racks in the butchers shops with even more being processed in plain sight. Veiled women picked through displays of overly ripe fruit as they passed. The older women paid them no need. Neither did the younger women, for the most part, but for the odd, shy glance.

The pyramids on the plateau were well hidden beyond the veil of buildings by which they passed. But it was well compensated for by the moon which shone its pale blue light brightly down upon them. Before long the energy of the place caught up to Indy and he was soon walking alongside Bes and the Doctor and Vranea also. He was caught up as the squat, old mans joviality swept him away. Much in spite of himself, and much contrary to his expectations for the night, he found himself laughing heartily at Bes and the Doctor's banter. In short order he also found himself joining in on the merriment, earning cheerful slaps on the back from Bes and the Doctor.

While strolling down one side street and talking quietly, or at least slightly less boisterously, the quartet noticed a clamor coming from further down one of the side streets to their left. One of the houses was lit brightly from within while the sounds of singing and the stomping of dancing feet could be heard. Outside even more people talked, smoked hookah and drunk as the din continued around them.

"What's that," Vranea asked being attracted by the merry voices within the house.

"Ah, that's a wedding," Bes said as he peered down the alley. "Or it will be. It looks like one of the Sawalha boys is getting married. When one of their children is to be married the parents throw a party to announce it. It's the custom."

"Oh, I love weddings! Can we go?"

"We really shouldn't intrude," Indy protested. He thought he might be silenced by a raised palm and Bes's open smile, urging them forward. But he was only half right. That open smile never left Bes's face, but he rather surprisingly agreed with Indy.

"Not this time I'm afraid," he said. "This is a party for the groom and his family. Outsiders aren't allowed."

"Besides, they might see your markings and mistake you for the bride," the Doctor said into her ear.

"Why," she asked.

"It's called henna art. The brides skin is dyed in intricate designs that stay on her skin for weeks. Many of the patterns resemble your own mottling, actually."

"Not to worry, my dear," Bes said as he took her by the arm. "There's much more to see."

They continued their tour through Cairo at night under Bes's watchful, guiding hand. Eventually their travels, and conversation, led them across the Qasr al-Nil bridge. They passed between its regal, stone lion guardians at near about midnight. A mass of fellow pilgrims joined them on the eastern shore of the Nile under the pale moon light. Their stories intertwined, even if only briefly, as they passed camel, car and footmen alike.

They stopped about midway on their path to the western bank to soak in the view. The Doctor joined his newly found kindred spirit as they nattered and cracked wise over the bridges northern railing. Indy peered over the southern railing. The Nile shimmered as a ghost beneath him, its banks being framed by stands of palms which were swaying under a gentle midnight breeze. The river was remarkably busy even at this late hour, though that seemed to be a recurring theme for this city. Even now late night fishermen could be seen casting their nets in the water by lamplight. Passenger steamboats and diesel tugs steamed up and down the river. They passed as strangers in the night before slipping between the bridges massive stone pillars.

Vranea joined him and they enjoyed the view in silence for a time. A sudden motion to his right caught Indy's attention as a gust of cool night air blew a lock of Vranea's auburn hair across her face. She brushed it aside, tucking it behind her ear, and Indy noticed her when she did. Perhaps for the first time he _really_ noticed her.

Her skin glowed under the moons gentle light. He noticed for the first time the mottling which began around her eyes and flowed down the side of her face. It was well hidden by her more conservative dress as it cascaded down her shoulders and arms. But it emerged again on her exposed hands and danced to a delicate end on her fingertips. The Doctor was right. It did look like henna art. Remarkably so, in fact. With her delicate, silken head wrapping one might mistake her for a Muslim bride eagerly awaiting her groom.

Indy had a good, long stare and she caught him while he did. She was not offended or defensive. She simply smiled and tilted her head slightly, tufts of hair falling away from her neck. Vranea returned her gaze to the Nile and watched as some of the late night fishermen hauled up a net load of fish.

"So, how did you meet the Doctor," Indy asked as he turned to face her.

"The same way most people do, I suppose," she said, not taking her eyes off the Nile. "A weird blue box falls out of the sky, a weird little man falls out of the box, one thing leads to another and before you know it you're running from a race of little pink aliens who worship cheese."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, we did that! Those little pink guys smelled almost as bad as their curdled, green god."

"But really, how did you meet?"

Vranea thought hard for a moment as she searched for the right words. The moonlight danced off her eyes as the gears and wheels of her mind turned behind them.

"My people are going extinct," she said solemnly. "It's not because of war or disease or anything. It's the opposite, actually. We're the happiest we've ever been. I suppose that's the problem. We want for nothing. We have golem servants who cater to our every whim. Even our cities are perfectly maintained for us."

"Golems?"

"Artificial Intelligence. Living machines, basically."

"Robots? That sounds like a dream come true. What's the problem?"

"The problem is that my people have stopped dreaming," Vranea said, a new despair set in her voice. "Our every need is met and our every whim is catered. We have nothing left to strive for so we don't. Our days are filled with hollow pursuits. We play and prance as everything that made us great crumbles at our feet."

"How is it crumbling? I thought you said the golems maintain everything for you."

"I don't mean our cities or our tech. Those are still pristine. The golems have seen to that. I mean our spirit. That nature which drove us to create such great marvels of technology in the first place. That once great character has been whittled away by centuries of base pleasures and apathy. Many people don't even care to mate as we once did. People don't want to hunt for husbands or wives anymore. It's easier to buy a golem. A perfect robot slave who can satisfy your every carnal desire. It's a hollow relationship that can bear no fruit.

"And so our population is shrinking. We've gone from about five billion to a little better than four and a half in the last 20 years. There are a few of us who have kept the old ways. The simple ways of faith and honor. But every year our number grows smaller. Every year more of our youth abandon their homes in the country for lives of pleasure in the city. I have three brothers and a sister. I'm the only one left who remembers the old ways. I haven't seen my sister in almost half a year. She's the one who visits most often. And every time I see her she's fatter than the last."

"I see," Indy said as he beheld Vranea who had grown sullen. "And how does the Doctor fit in to all this?"

"I was in town one day on a supply run when I heard the Tardis land around the corner. I didn't know what it was, of course. It just looked like a big, blue box with strange writing on top. I kept watching and this strange little man with a bald face stumbled out. At first I thought he was mad, because he kept talking to the box like it could hear him. But I was curious so I talked with him."

"What did you think then?"

"Then I knew he was mad," she said as a wry smile returned to her face. "I showed him around a little. A lot like Bes is doing, actually. We walked. We talked. We got into a little _trouble_," she said and the wry smile deepened on her face. "Eventually we got to talking about the way things are back on Cheldana and he invited me to come with him."

"Really? Why did he do that?"

"He said that there was something he wanted me to see. He said that he knew of a race that had cheated death more times than he could count. He said there was a race that had come face to face with extinction and beat it every time. He offered to show me this race, to teach me their secrets. I just hope I'm able to pass them on to my people."

"And what race is this," Indy said as he leaned in, suddenly interested.

"It's yours," she said with a smile. "He's quite enamored with you, you know, Humanity. Can't say that I see it. But he thinks you're something special. He's brought me along to see some of your darkest hours and how you survived. We came to this time period to study Word War Two. And then we met you."

"Excellent. So, when is that supposed to start?"

"Soon, according to the Doctor."

"Wonderful. So, we've got that to look forward to. Why do you think he chose you? If you don't mind my asking. He seems the type who's seen the rise and fall of many races."

"I'm not sure. There's a certain understanding in his eyes whenever I talk about the Roni and Cheldana. It's almost like he knows what it's like to bear witness to the end of your race. He doesn't talk about how he knows, but somehow he knows."

Another moment of silence passed between them with nothing more than the cooling night breeze to keep them company. They were startled out of their silent contemplations as Bes threw his burly arms around them and squeezed them both tightly.

"The Nile at night, yes?"

He squeezed their shoulders firmly, bringing the three uncomfortably close.

"Perfect for lovers, yes," he said with a knowing smile. "Paris, eat your heart out!"

"Oh no, we're not lovers," Vranea interjected. "We're just..."

"I'm old, but not blind! I know longing glances exchanged on a moonlit night when I see them."

Bes laughed heartily as the pair reddened and squirmed uncomfortably at the mercy of his overly forceful grip.

"Don't worry, don't worry. It's natural. You're only young once, yes? Come, come! The night is young and there is more to see."

Once again the quartet made their way among the camels and pedestrians to the west bank of the bridge. Bes urged them on and even managed to convince them that they were thirsty enough for another drink at one of the local shops. He was on the verge of negotiating a new haircut for them when Indy put his foot down silently to the Doctor.

"Doctor, we're not on vacation," Indy said as he pulled the Doctor quietly to the side. "I've taken your advice and I think I'm better for it. I've seen the city from a perspective that few have and I'm grateful for it. But we have serious business in the morning and we all need our rest."

"Very well, Dr. Jones, I take your point," the Doctor sighed. "I'll settle up with Bes, then."

Begrudgingly the Doctor broke the news to his new besty. It took some finagling but eventually the Doctor was able to convince their swindling guide that his services were no longer required. But not before trying to make one last sale.

"As you wish, my friend. As you wish. Do you have a place to stay? I know of a good hotel not far from here. I can get you a good price. I know the owner!"

"Thank you, my good man, but we have a place to lay our heads already," the Doctor replied.

"As you wish, my friend. But, before you go, I hate to discuss such trifles as money..."

"Of course, I understand," the Doctor said as he retrieved his wallet. "What's the damage, then?"

"Six pounds, if you please."

"Six pounds," the Doctor replied, the shock of it evident in his voice.

"I assure you, I negotiated the prices as low as I could."

Bes was becoming defensive. He held his hands out in a pleading gesture, surely expecting to wrangle for his money.

"Oh, it's nothing like that," the Doctor reassured him. "I actually wasn't expecting it to be that cheap."

Without a further word the Doctor reached into the wallet and pulled out several bills of blank paper.

"Oh no, my friend," Bes said as he pushed the bills away. "That's far too much!"

"Nonsense," the Doctor said as he thrust the bills into Bes's hand. "You showed us an excellent time. Please, keep the excess for your self. I insist!"

"Well, if you insist, Doctor."

Having put up his front of modesty, Bes finally accepted the "money" from the Doctor. The quartet said their goodbye's sent Bes off, singing happily into the night.

"Doctor, what did you give him," Indy asked.

"Just more psychic paper," the Doctor replied. "It will be perfectly spendable for the next hundred years, or so."

"Well that's handy. How much did you give him?"

"Oh, I don't know. Eight or nine pounds."

"Eight or nine pounds? And you thought that was cheap? How expensive are things in the future?"

The Doctor furrowed his brow and thought hard before responding.

"Do you own a house, Dr. Jones?"

"Yes, of course."

"What is it worth?"

"About $3500, or so. Why?"

"In about a hundred years you won't even be able to buy a good used car for that. So, now where to stay," the Doctor said, ignoring the look of shock and horror strewn about Indy's face.

"Why can't we stay in the Tardis," Vranea asked.

"That's quite the walk, my dear," the Doctor said.

"Then what do you suggest," Indy asked, having regained his senses.

"Well, if we're going to stay, we had may as well stay in style," the Doctor said as a smile crept upon his face. "Alright, children, follow me."

Motorized cabs were rare, even in this city of hustle and bustle, but they managed to find one all the same. After flagging a cab they hopped in and the Doctor whispered something into the drivers ear. Thankfully it wasn't an excessively long trip for Indy and Vranea both felt sleep weighing heavily on their eyes. Within 20 minutes they found themselves rolling up to a majestic and stately building which very much resembled a castle. A 40 acre garden sprawled the grounds before them as the cab pulled up to the main gate.

"No," Dr. Jones uttered under his breath as he realized where they were.

"Yes," the Doctor said with a smile about his face. "Absolutely."

"What is it," Vranea asked as she looked out the window. "What's so special about this place?"

"Doctor, they'll never let us in," Indy said.

"They'll let us in," the Doctor said as he readied his wallet. "We're about to become very important."

"Will one of you pricks stop ignoring me and tell me where we are," Vranea demanded.

"We're at the Mena House Hotel," Indy said. "It's one of the best hotels in the city. And I still don't think even _you_ can get us in here, Doctor."

The doctor "paid" the cab driver and they soon found themselves ascending the red granite stair into the hotel lobby.

"This won't work, Doctor," Indy continued. "I still look like I just crawled out of a Cambodian tomb!"

"You smell like it, too," Vranea added.

"Will the both of you hush," the Doctor scolded. "I have this."

The clerk at the desk bore the motley crew a shocked glance as he eyed them up one side and down the other. He spent a great deal of his time on Indy, who he could smell almost before he could see.

"Hello, my good man," the Doctor said as they approached. "We would like a room, please."

"Do you have a reservation?"

"No."

"Then we're full."

The young man behind the desk said nothing further, but continued filing the guest registration cards for the day.

"We're special guests," the Doctor said, flashing his psychic paper. "We were told you would have rooms."

"Really, Mr. Smith," the young man said as he examined the paper.

"Absolutely," the Doctor replied.

"You're guests of Dr. Moustafa Mousharafa, of Cairo University?"

Indy rolled his eyes at hearing the name.

"That's what it says on the paper, is it not?"

"Indeed. I'm sorry, but we're still full," the young man said as he handed the paper back to the Doctor.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm Dr. Indiana Jones," Indy said. "I'm a visiting professor from America and..."

"Dr. Jones," the young man said, clearly recognizing the name. "The eminent archaeologist?"

"Yes. My companions and I were doing some work on the plateau and Dr. Mousharafa invited us to speak at the university. He assured us that you might have rooms."

"Indeed. I'll see what I can do."

The young man flipped through his registration cards in search of something that might be available. As he did Indy shot the Doctor yet another smug glance.

"You may be in luck," the young man said. "I have one room available and two reservations that never showed. Would you like to take them?"

"Yes, please. And thank you."

"Certainly, Dr. Jones. We are pleased to help."

They booked in, received their keys and made for their rooms. Their rooms weren't close. Only two of them were in the same wing. But they could hardly complain, being lucky to have rooms at all.

"I think you need to work on being a little more low key, Doctor," Indy said as they walked down the ornate, lamp lit hallway.

"Whatever do you mean," the Doctor queried, sounding insulted.

"First we were under direct invitation of Shakyashribhadra and now Dr. Mousharafa?"

"So? Who's he?"

"Only the dean of Cairo University."

"So what? You think I can't use that gag more than once every two thousand years?"

"I'm just saying that one of these days you're going to get called out on it, is all."

"Rubbish and twaddle," the Doctor declared defiantly. "Psychic paper is a staple of Timelord camouflage. It never fails."

"Except for when monks are trained against psychic incursion," Vranea added.

"Rare to the point of obscurity," the Doctor retorted.

"Or when people simply don't care," Indy taunted. "You know, if you actually built a name for yourself you might be able to get into more places with less trickery."

"Yes, well, we can't all be the world famous_ Indiana bloody Jones_, can we," the Doctor spat.

Eventually they came to a juncture where their paths were to part. They stood before another red granite staircase as the Doctor gave them each their keys.

"Alright, kids, I've put you two in the upstairs wing. I'm downstairs and around the corner. Try not to get in _too much trouble_ while I'm away, would you," the Doctor said with a cheeky gleam in his eye. "I'd hate for you two to have too much fun without adult supervision."

Indy laughed at the insinuation as he took his key.

"Doctor, I've had a day I still don't quite understand," he said. "I started the day in a Cambodian crypt, met the president, saw the destruction of one of the wonders of the ancient world, _went back in time_ to see it in it's heyday and got a full tour of Cairo at night. Strictly speaking I haven't had a good nights sleep in almost a thousand years and I feel like it. I'm not doing anything but having a shower and passing out on my bed."

"Well, a bucket of laughs you are," the Doctor said with a look of disdain stretched across his face. "Vranea, my dear, I suppose all my hopes lay vicariously with you."

"I'm on it, Doc," she said as she accepted her key. "I won't let you down. I'm sure I can find something stupid to do."

"That's my girl," the Doctor said, tousling her hair. "I'm certain the free coffee in your room will help to that end."

"There's free coffee in the room?"

"Of course."

"Woo hoo! This place rocks!"

"Alright, kids, we'll meet bright and early in the dining room for breakfast," the Doctor said as he turned and made for his room. "Have fun! Except for you, Dr. Jones, you big stick in the mud."

True to his word Indy went straight to his room and hopped in the shower. The insanity of the last 24 hours, or 1000 years depending on your perspective, melted away as the hot water washed over him. He spent much longer in the shower than he was accustomed. He spent nearly half an hour allowing the hot water, which was hotter than he was accustomed to as well, to pour over him.

It was too late to use the hotels dry cleaning service. So instead he opted to take his clothes in the shower with him. When he emerged from the shower, pink as a lobster awaiting butter, he wrung his clothing out as best as he was able. Then he wrapped himself in his complementary robe and draped his clothing out the window to dry. Finally seeming as though the days events were at last behind him, he put on a pot of coffee to unwind. No sooner had he poured his first cup when he heard a weak knock on the door.

Opening it he found Vranea staring back up at him, a glassy look set upon her eyes. Her face had flushed and she bore an expression of utter contentment upon it. She had clearly not even showered for she still wore the same dress she had been all evening though she had pulled her head wrapping back. Her long, curly, auburn hair now cascaded around her face and down her shoulders. When he opened the door she leaned happily against the frame, tracing its outline gently with her finger.

"H'llo there, _Dr. Jones_," she slurred contentedly.

"Vranea," Indy said as she leaned in closer to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Something incredibly stupid," she said as she staggered into the room and slumped into his arms. She nuzzled his chest gently and inhaled deeply through the fibers of his robe. "You smell good," she said as she stared up at him with those green, glassy eyes and her breath was hot upon his face.

"And you smell like you've been into the coffee in your room," Indy said to the inebriated young woman before him. She slumped all the more as she erupted into a fit of nervous, childish laughter. When she had recovered her senses, or at least as much as her befuddled mind would allow, she looked up and her eyes met his. She reached up and stroked his face gently and his stubble tickled her palm.

"Your face is prickly," she slurred.

They looked into each others eyes for a moment before Vranea crinkled her nose in a most peculiar way. Her eyes came alive as she sniffed the air, a familiar pungent aroma catching her attention. She looked past Indy to see a freshly brewed pot of coffee and a cup waiting to be poured sitting on a table by the window.

"More coffee!"

She pushed Indy aside with remarkable ease as she bounded toward the pot which beckoned her name.

"Don't you think you've had enough," Indy said as she poured her first cup. Or her first cup in Indy's room, at any rate.

"Never!"

Indy watched as she poured a drink and swallowed the whole, steaming cup in a few mighty gulps. She downed cup after cup in this manner and Indy grimaced after each one.

"How can you do that," he asked, aghast at the spectacle.

"H-h-how can you not?"

Finally he managed to catch up to her and attempted to restrain her but she wouldn't have it. Even nearly falling down drunk she proved remarkably nimble. She managed to get down another couple of cups while Indy struggled to relieve her of them.

"S-stop... stop being such a... muddy stick," she slurred angrily.

"I think you mean a stick in the mud."

"Now... now that's just s-s-silly! Who's drunk now, huh?"

"I think that's still you," Indy said as he made a grab for another cup. She said nothing but downed it as quickly as she was able. She managed to evade Indy's grasp, but some of the coffee dribbled down her chin all the same. When she had finished, taking one last hard swallow, her eyes fluttered and she swooned slightly. She finally keeled over, barely lucid, into Indy's waiting arms.

"And now you've over done it," he said as he scooped her up. "Let's get you to bed before you puke on _this_ carpet."

She never struggled but offered several whimpering protests as he carried her to the bed.

"I'm f-... I'm fine," she protested as he laid her on the bed. "I just... just need to lay down... for a bit."

"You are laying down."

"Oh, good. See? I'm better already."

Indy watched in puzzlement as she began pumping her legs rhythmically as though walking.

"What are you doing," he asked, half laughing at the sight.

"I'm going to get more coffee," she said sleepily. Slumber hung heavily upon her eyes and they remained half closed as she spoke. "D-do you want some?"

"You're not going anywhere," he said as he pulled the blankets over her. "You're going to stay right here and get a good nights sleep."

"But... wanna have fun," she said as she began drifting off to sleep. "We should... enjoy... each other. The Doctor..."

"Doctors orders, is that it," Indy said with a smile.

"Doctors... orders..."

They never said another word as Vranea drifted off to sleep before him. The mottling on her face was nearly consumed as her face flushed red around it. Gently Indy brushed a stray lock of her curly hair away from her face as he watched her sleeping in his bed.

"How about this, honey," he said as she snored softly, oblivious to him. "See me again in the morning, when you're in your right mind. If you still feel the same way then we can talk."


	5. Chapter 4: The Silent Children

**Chapter 4: The Silent Children**

* * *

A intense, late morning sun assaulted Indy's eyes as he snoozed fitfully on the sofa in his room. Only too late he realized that he had forgotten to set an alarm and had woefully overslept. He grabbed his now dry clothing from the window sill and rushed to the bathroom to change. When he emerged again Vranea was sitting on the edge of the bed with a dazed and confused look on her face. She regarded him with shock and surprise at his return.

"What are _you_ doing in here," she asked.

"It's _my_ room, that's what" Indy retorted.

"Oh. What time is it?"

"Almost eleven o'clock. So, I guess you don't remember much of last night?"

"No," she said, cautiously. Her eyes widened with a foreboding dread as she imagined what indiscretions lay repressed within the blacked out portions of her mind. "We didn't... did we?"

"Don't worry, we didn't do anything stupid," Indy said with a laugh. "Much to the Doctor's chagrin, I suppose. I slept on the couch and gave you the bed."

"Really? This is your room. Why didn't you kick me out?"

"Well, I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I did that."

"A gentleman?"

"Yeah. You know, chivalry. Showing respect for women, the mothers of our children."

Vranea said nothing in response. Instead she lowered her head and appeared deep in thought about something.

"Vranea? Is something wrong?"

"No," she answered absent mindedly. "But I think we could use a little of this _chivalry_ of yours on Cheldana, is all."

After Indy was dressed, and they made sure Vranea was still fit to walk, they made for the Doctor's room. They knocked on his door but there was no answer. Finally they ventured into the lobby where they found him reading the daily paper on one of the chairs there. He looked up as they approached and his eyes lit up with childish glee as they drew near. Eagerly he tossed down his paper and raced to meet them.

"Doctor, I thought you wanted to meet early for breakfast," Indy said as the Doctor bounded happily over. "It's almost noon!"

"I know, I know," the Doctor said happily. "But I knocked on Vranea's door and put two and two together when there was no answer. So I thought I'd be a good chaperone and let you two kids sleep it off."

"I think you and I have different ideas of what makes a 'good chaperone', Doctor."

"So, don't hold back," the Doctor said as he squeezed Indy and Vranea's shoulders playfully. "Dish! Did you have fun? Did you create a memory of youthful indiscretion to haunt your elderly years and bring shame to your families? Were various cheeses involved?"

"Nothing happened, Doctor."

"Nothing? _Nothing_? What do you mean _nothing_?"

"Nothing. As in the opposite of whatever you were expecting to happen."

A look of deep disappointment grew upon the Doctors face, which he directed mostly at Vranea.

"I would have expected this from him," the Doctor said, gesturing to Indy. "Big old burly stick in the mud! But _you_ promised me youthful stupidity, Vranea, my dear!"

"I don't know what to say, Doctor," Vranea said apologetically. "Apparently youthful stupidity is harder to accomplish than I thought."

"Believe me, stupidity was achieved," Indy said, earning a look of ire from Vranea. "Just not the stupidity you were hoping for, Doctor."

"Yes, well, I guess it will have to do," the Doctor said. "Whatever. Let's go find this friend of yours, Indy."

The Doctor settled their bill with more of his psychic money and the trio hit the streets. It was nearly noon and none had had anything to eat yet so they stopped at one of the local restaurants for an early lunch. It wasn't as good as the late night cuisine they had shared with Bes, but still very good all the same.

They had walked for nearly an hour after lunch and still had not reached the Qasr al-Nil bridge. Mechanized cabs were still fairly rare but they managed to negotiate a ride with a local hauling a load of poultry across the bridge. The Doctor haggled his price down some, mostly for show, and paid him with more of his funny money. Within an hour they were across the bridge and ambling through one of the market districts on the east side. They hopped off there when their paths were to part. Indy led them on foot the rest of the way.

Soon they found themselves walking through a lively neighborhood of adobe brick houses which seemed to be crammed together shoulder to shoulder. Children darted and dashed between them as they pressed through a throng of old men and veiled housewives. Shortly they came to a familiar door and Indy stood before it confidently, as though he had finally returned home after a long journey.

He knocked on the door and the sound of it reverberated through the house. A time passed but no one came to the door. He knocked again but the effect was the same. No one came to the door but this time he heard a distinct yet faint rustling from within.

"Maybe no one's home," the Doctor said. "I would hate to think we came all this way for nothing."

"No, someone is definitely here," Vranea said. "I can hear them inside the house. Whispers, too. Like hushed conversations."

"I thought I heard something, too," Indy said. "I don't like it. Something isn't right."

He knocked again but, as before, naught answered him but the sound of his rapping echoing through the house. At least at first. After a short time the door did swing ajar ever so slightly revealing a pair of curious little eyes only a few feet off the ground. Indy smiled down at the little man, having recognized the face immediately.

"As-salamu alaykum, Aadam," Indy said, practicing his Arabic. "Hw amk alsft alryysyt?"

The little boy never responded, but the door slammed shut on them. From behind a stern female voice could be heard sternly but silently rebuking the lad. The lad responded loudly and less tactfully, his voice begging that the woman pay heed.

"Ikn Indy al'm bh! Ikn Indy al'm bh!"

Another brief moment of silence passed before the door silently crept open before them. It opened just a crack, just enough for the one behind to peek at the foreign intruders.

"Fayah?" Indy said gently. "Fayah? It's me. It's Indy."

The door opened further to reveal the face of a woman, her head wrapping pulled tightly over her head. Her eyes were sunken and distant. Her baggy, bloodshot eyes looked as though they had not seen rest in days. And what's more they appeared to have been crying. There was a void disconnect in those vacant eyes. But after she had a good look at Indy, recognizing him at last, her eyes lit up and she threw the door ajar widely.

"Indy, get inside quickly," she said, gesturing urgently. "Hurry! Get off the street, quickly!"

He never asked questions but honored the urgency in her voice and ducked inside. Fayah stalled with a start as the Doctor and Vranea approached the door.

"It's okay, Fayah," Indy reassured her. "They're with me. We can trust them."

"Hurry then," she said, beckoning urgently. "Get inside, quickly."

After they were inside Fayah checked the street to be certain they weren't being followed. Then she closed the door quietly and latched it shut behind them. As she was doing so the Doctor stepped into the house and peered into the kitchen. There nine children, ranging from three to seventeen, sat quietly and nervously huddled around the kitchen table. A look of quiet desperation was set upon their faces, though it did lift somewhat when they saw their Uncle Indy.

"Something truly terrible has happened here," the Doctor said solemnly.

"What do you mean, Doctor," Vranea asked.

"Look at what's right in front of your face, my dear," the Doctor responded as he gestured toward the children. "Children are _never_ this quiet. It's not in their nature. A house full of children is a noisy house. A house with any more than one is a symphony of orchestrated chaos at best. There's only one reason a house full of children would be this silent. Something terrible has happened here, something that they don't know how to handle. And so they wait. They sit and wait for the adults to figure it out and restore some order to the chaos their lives have become."

Fayah, meanwhile, had gone into host mode. Or rather a broken down version thereof. She did her best to make Indy feel at home, though it had been an age since she had felt at home herself.

"I'm afraid I don't have much to offer you," she said. Her voice quivered as she spoke.

"Fayah, don't worry about it," Indy tried reassuring her, but to no avail. The record was already playing and she barely perceived him at all.

"We don't have any milk. We used the last of it this morning."

"Fayah..."

"I would offer you tea, but we used the last of our fire wood last night."

"It's alright, Fayah..."

"I would go out to get more but I can't... I can't... I can't..."

Her voice finally failed her as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. And as they did in her eyes so they did in her children's as well. Before long the entire room was a painful symphony of sobs and weeping. The older ones comforted the younger ones. A losing battle as they were caught up in tears themselves. And the youngest ones knew not why they wept, only feeding off the sorrow of their brothers and sisters.

"Fayah, listen to me," Indy said as he took her by the shoulder and spun her to face him. "What has happened here?"

Fayah broke down and fell to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Her children echoed her state as she looked up at Indy with eyes painfully red.

"They took him," she said between sobs.

"Who, Fayah," Indy said as gently as he was able. "_Who_ took him?"

"The Germans. The Germans took my Sallah!"

Fresh waves of anguish rippled through the room at the words. The children covered their faces and wept anew, even though they could not understand this strange language their mother spoke. But grief knows no tongue and every.

"Okay, come on, Fayah," Indy said as he helped her to her feet. "Let's go upstairs. Your children don't need to see this."

Gently Indy led her upstairs to the rooftop balcony where she and Sallah had entertained him so many times before. She was extremely weak and he almost needed to carry her up the stairs. The Doctor and Vranea followed closely behind. As they were ascending the stairs the Doctor turned to Vranea and halted her.

"Vranea, my dear, would you go fetch us a glass of water, please?"

She nodded and went to the kitchen where the children were. She had to have the oldest, a 17 year old boy, show her where the water bucket was. There wasn't much left but she managed to scoop up a glass full and brought it back upstairs to the others. Fayah had calmed down in the fresh air of the balcony. She accepted the glass from Vranea with a shaky yet firm hand. When she did she noticed the mottling on Vranea's hand.

"Indy, you never told us you were getting married," Fayah said as she took a sip. Her voice was still shaky, but stronger.

"We're not married," Indy said, forcing a weak smile. "Let's just call it... _complicated_. But these two are my friends. We can trust them."

Fayah nodded as she took another sip.

"This is Vranea," Indy said as he put his hand on her shoulder. "And this is the Doctor."

"A doctor?" Fayah asked. "Doctor Who?"

"It's just the Doctor, my dear," the Doctor said gently. Under the circumstances he took no pleasure in the rightful use of his moniker.

"Fayah, why don't you take a breath and tell us what happened here," Indy said.

Fayah took a breath, as well as another sip, before responding.

"They came the night before last," she said. "There was a knock on the door after evening prayer. I answered while Sallah read the evening paper. There were several armed German soldiers and a general there. They pushed past me and held me in the kitchen while they took Sallah up here to question him."

"Do you know what they questioned him about?"

Fayah shook her head.

"Only that they came down about an hour later. Sallah tried telling me something but they hurried him out the door before he could finish."

"What did he say?"

"I don't know. It didn't make any sense, but he made me promise to deliver it anyway. It was gibberish to me."

"Please, my dear," the Doctor said, squeezing her hand firmly. Anything you could tell us may help."

Fayah closed her eyes and thought hard before responding.

"He said 'Tell Alkb, he shall get the key to the basement upon my return.'"

"Alkb?" Indy repeated. "He said that?"

Fayah nodded and lines of thought etched themselves deeply upon his brow.

"Why, what does it mean?" Vranea asked.

"Well, Fayah's right. The message doesn't make any sense. Alkb means the dog in Arabic. It's complete gibberish.

"We don't even have a dog," Fayah added. "Or a basement for that matter."

"Unless," Indy's brow unfurled and a smile cracked the corners of his lips as a new epiphany was revealed to him. "Oh, Sallah, you clever devil. You slipped one past the Germans!"

"Whatever do you mean?" the Doctor asked as he leaned in with interest.

"It wasn't a message _for the dog_," Indy explained. "It was a message _for me_!"

"And how was this for you?"

"It's my name. Or my moniker, I suppose. My real name is Henry Jones Jr. Indiana is a nickname I chose for myself. It's the name of my favorite dog growing up."

"You're named after _a dog_," Vranea exclaimed. If the situation wasn't so horribly inappropriate she might have burst out laughing.

"And 'basement' is a synonym for 'vault'," Indy said, ignoring the judgmental and incredulous look stretched upon Vranea's face. "He was telling us that he knows where the vault is located and asking for help."

"But how could he possibly know that you would be here?" Vranea asked.

"Because he knows me, that's how. He knows that wherever there are lost artifacts, jackbooted thugs and the promise of fortune and glory his old friend Indy can't be far behind. Tell me, Fayah, did he say anything else?"

"He had no time," she said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "They stole him away immediately."

"What about the Germans? Did they question you?"

"Yes," she said, nodding. "Not as thoroughly, but yes. They asked me about his associates, his research and about his comings and goings."

"What did they ask about his research? Anything would help."

"They asked if I knew anything about a vault."

"A vault," the Doctor repeated. "They asked you about it directly?"

Fayah said nothing but nodded, taking another sip of water.

"Well then at least we know we're on the right track."

"Fayah, listen to me," Indy said as he took her hand and squeezed it tightly. "I promise you, I will find Sallah. But I need to know where they've taken him. Can you tell me anything else? Did they tell you anything or did you overhear anything that might help?"

"No, Indy, I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "They all spoke German. Except for that general."

"A general? What about this general?"

"A serious looking man named Raemsteht. I'll never forget his face," she said coldly as a grimace spread across her own. "He had the friendliest face, but eyes straight from Hell."

"And did he tell you anything, this Raemsteht? Perhaps let slip something?"

"He was very direct," she said, shaking her head. "He came, took what he wanted and left with my Sallah."

Once again her eyes reddened and welled up as fresh tears began to flow.

"It's alright, my dear," the Doctor said as he placed a comforting hand upon Fayah's. "Please don't fret. Indy and I will sort this out. Dr. Jones, perhaps we should speak in private. Vranea, my dear, could you watch Fayah, please?"

"Of course," Vranea answered. She placed a kindly arm around Fayah to control her sobbing while Indy and the Doctor held counsel around the corner and out of earshot.

"Well, Doctor, what do you think," Indy asked as he leaned against the wall. "It's not much to go on."

"Surely not," the Doctor agreed. "But it's more than we had when we arrived. We know that Sallah has the key to the vault. We also know that the Nazi's are after it as well and that _they know_ Sallah is the key to opening it. Tell me, Dr. Jones, how likely is Sallah to tell them what he knows?"

"Sallah? He'll never talk. He'll lead those jackbooted thugs in circles before he reveals anything."

"Well, that will buy us some time, at least. But we need to get to him quickly. They already have a two day head start on us and they won't keep him around for long when they realize he won't talk."

"Agreed."

"You talked as though you've gone up against these people before?"

"I have some experience with the Third Reich, yes."

"So then you're the expert, Dr. Jones. Where should we expect to look?"

Indy crossed his arms and furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

"It will be somewhere they can easily fortify," he began. "And somewhere fairly low key. Somewhere they can set up a base of operations and not be noticed. It will probably be close, as well. No more than a few hours away by car."

"Well that narrows it down considerably!"

"No, not really. We're in Egypt, Doctor. I could easily name a few dozen pyramids, tombs, ruins, castles and old forts that could fit that description. They could have him in the Queens Chamber of Khufu's pyramid, for all we know."

"So then what do you suggest?"

"We need an insider. Someone who knows the lay of the land. Someone with his ear to the ground. We need someone who can poke around discretely and ask about any strange foreigners poking about."

"Excellent, Dr. Jones! Good show. Do you have any suggestions, then?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Indy said regretfully. "Sallah _was_ my man in Havana, so to speak. I'm afraid I'm at a loss, Doctor.

Indy and the Doctor shared a moment in silence as they pondered the problem before them. Then, in one accord, their eyes locked and they smiled as the solution, the only true solution, revealed itself to them.

"I know exactly what we need," the Doctor said. "We need a guide."

* * *

They left the house shortly thereafter. They helped Fayah bring in some more water, since she was still too afraid to venture outside the house, and some food for the children, also. They discussed how they might catch a ride to the outskirts of the city where they first met Bes, but Fayah wouldn't have it. Her elder brother and his family lived only a few blocks away. She suggested that they pay him a visit and borrow his car. She gave them a note to give him and they pushed through the mid day throng to Jasim's house.

At first Jasim knew not what to make of them. He knew none of them and was about to close the door in their faces until Dr. Jones introduced himself. Then Jasim _slammed_ the door in their faces, being still upset over the loss of his last vehicle at Indy and Sallah's hands. It took nearly ten minutes of constant knocking, and no small amount of forceful pleading, for Jasim to open the door again. When he did Indy thrust the note into his hands. Against his better judgment, Jasim read the note in its entirety and his ire was replaced with an expression of dread concern. He argued no further and eagerly thrust his keys into Indy's hands.

They began their search for Bes on the outskirts of the city, where they had first met him. They had hoped he might be there, picking up more "work" but to no avail. They asked around but apparently no one had heard of this _Bes_ character of theirs. The dilemma of tracking a seasoned con artist, the Doctor mused.

And so the trio began retracing their tour of the night before. They asked in the coffee shops and stalls lining the streets but none of the vendors could place the name. And only a few could recall the face. Apparently the city wasn't as tightly knit as Bes had led them to believe. But eventually they found their lead, all the same.

The use of Jasim's car quickened their search and they soon found themselves at the restaurant where they had enjoyed the Kushari the night before. The owner played it Bogart as Indy and the Doctor questioned him on Bes' whereabouts. Their efforts were fruitless and they returned to the street frustrated. But, upon their return, they rejoined Vranea who smiled brightly at their homecoming.

"What's got you in such high spirits, Miss Kitty?" Indy asked.

"He's in an apartment one block north and two blocks east," Vranea responded, still smiling brightly. "304 Haret Hendawi ST."

Indy and the Doctor shared confused, yet pleased, glances as they awaited an explanation.

"While you two were playing house with the owner I slipped around back," Vranea explained. "I caught his daughter tossing some dish water out back and we had some _girl time_. We talked about what it's like in America. Because I'm American... apparently. And we talked about my wedding..."

"Your wedding?" Indy interrupted with a smile.

"I am the blushing new bride of a local financier," she said with a confident flick of the wrist. "My parents were against it, of course, but I just couldn't help myself. He won me over with his charming, shy wit and his deep, dark, Arabian eyes. In the end love won the day!"

"And his money?" the Doctor added.

"It didn't hurt. So, after she was comfortable, I told her we were looking for Bes and she let slip that she knows him. Apparently she makes deliveries to his apartment a few times a week. Oh, and by the way, his real name's Ibrahim. Just FYI."

"Well then, let's not keep him waiting," Indy said. "I'm sure he's eager to wish you best regards on your special day."

It was a short jaunt by car to 304 Haret Hendawi ST. It was a ratty little building tucked indelicately behind a slightly less ratty one. Indy and the Doctor climbed an external set of stairs, which creaked uneasily at their weight, up to the third level. They arrived at room 304 and Indy rapped hard on the door. There was no noise from inside so he rapped again. This time his efforts were rewarded by a faint shuffling from within.

"Ibrahim," Indy called in Arabic as he continued pounding on the door. "Fth albab, Ibrahim!"

The shuffling from within grew louder and muffled cursing in Arabic could be heard. Seconds later the door swung angrily ajar and Bes, or _Ibrahim_, as it were, stepped blinking into the light. He regarded them curiously, sleep still heavy upon his eyes, and did not recognize them at first. When he did he jumped back in a start, nearly stumbling on some of the trash littering his floor as he did.

His bright, open smile returned full force as he greeted them though it was laced with far more anxiety than before. He had long ago changed out of his street clothes and now only wore a robe which he nervously cinched shut. His comb over, which was desperate before, was even more so as it hung flaccidly from the side of his head.

"My friends," he said as he fretfully fixed his comb over. "I-I-I wasn't expecting you... _company_, I wasn't expecting company. You, uh... I..."

"Hello, _Ibrahim_," Indy said with a smile.

"Ibrahim," Ibrahim said, flashing a nervous smile. "Oh no, my friends. Ibrahim is... Ibrahim is my brother!"

"Really? Your twin brother, I suppose?"

Ibrahim nodded, not sure of what else to say. Indy, for his part, said nothing. He simply nodded back and smiled knowingly.

"Ibrahim, do you mind if we come in," the Doctor asked.

"Oh, my friends, it really isn't a good time..."

"Please, Ibrahim, it's important."

A moment passed between them as Ibrahim considered the earnestly begging in the Doctor's eyes.

"Please, at least allow me to get dressed," Ibrahim said, gesturing to his robe. "I am half naked."

"Alright, Ibrahim. We can wait here."

Ibrahim's bright, nervous smile never left his face as he shut the door before them. When it was shut a hurried rustling could be heard from within. Then the sound of a window opening as Ibrahim slipped out the back.

"I think you enjoyed that a little too much," the Doctor scolded Indy.

"Damn straight I did," Indy replied. "You know, we could have avoided all this if you had just let me bust down the door."

"I thought we should at least give him a chance," the Doctor said as he began down the stairs.

"Do you think she's in position? I hope you're sure about this, Doctor."

"Trust me. He won't get far."

Inside the room Ibrahim grabbed an armful of clothes and raced to the window. He fumbled somewhat with the latch but eventually pushed the window open and glanced nervously at the street below. He tossed his shoes out before flopping out the window himself. His stout form fell heavily to the awning below and he crashed, most disgracefully, to the awning below that. And so, in this hapless manner of stumbling pratfalls, he made his way to the street.

Running and dressing at the same time was no easy task, as he was soon to discover. He did one full face plant while pulling up his trousers and nearly another while putting on his shoes. Finally he let his robe drop and pulled the shirt on his back, though he never buttoned it. He simply let it flutter in the breeze as he ran. He might have thought himself home free as he ran through that narrow back alley. And, indeed, he might have escaped if not for the silhouette stalking him from the rooftops.

Vranea watched with an amused focus as Ibrahim flopped out his window. She couldn't help but giggle as he fell the last 8 feet or so. As he landed his fat body seemed to spread like a water balloon that had failed to burst. A water balloon with a bad comb over. She let him get a good distance on her, after he had picked himself up. Mostly to increase the sport of it.

When she was ready and her quarry had enough of a sporting lead, she leapt from her crouching position and ran along the rooftops behind him. She bounded from rooftop to rooftop with uncommon quickness and agility as he waddled off below her. Uncommon for the men of Earth, at any rate. After she had closed the gap on her quarry she leapt from her roof and landed delicately on one of the awnings below her. Using it as a springboard, she launched herself into the air and hooked one of the clothes lines stretched across the narrow alley in her descent. Even still in her dress, she fell the last 15 feet and landed gracefully on the ground.

But not so gracefully that Ibrahim did not hear. He turned at the noise and he let out a startled cry as he beheld Vranea who had set her sights upon him. Ibrahim quickened his pace and set off in a sprint, though it was still barely more than a lumbering waddle. Vranea caught up with him easily and tackled him from behind. Though she was light, he was caught off guard and stumbled, again planting his face in the dust. He struggled against her as he desperately cried out in Arabic.

"Ant alshytan! Ant alshytan!"

Indy and the Doctor caught up to her in short order. It wasn't that hard, really. They simply followed the panicked and fevered screaming. Vranea climbed off of him when they approached and he rolled on his back to meet them. His fake smile had gone. Now his rotund face bore an expression of shock and the most severe dread as he looked up at them from the flat of his back.

"Please, my friends," he pleaded desperately. "I didn't mean to cheat you! Times are desperate, yes? A man needs to earn a living, yes? Didn't we have a good time?"

"We're not here to hurt you," Indy said as he pulled Ibrahim to his feet. "We're here because we need your help."

"And we can pay," the Doctor added, which caught Ibrahim's attention.

And so Ibrahim led them back up to his apartment, though he hardly had any choice in doing so. When they had returned he cleared a space for them at his sparse table which barely seated three of them. The Doctor and Vranea sat at the table with Ibrahim. Indy sat on the window sill while the Doctor explained their situation to Ibrahim.

"A friend of ours has gone missing," the Doctor began. "We believe he's in trouble. A man by the name of Sallah."

"My friend, you are in Egypt," Ibrahim said. "There are many men here by that name."

"Sallah Mohammed Faisel el-Kahir," Indy said from his sill. "He was taken by Germans the night before last."

"Ah, yes," Ibrahim said with a nod. "I do not know the name, I'm afraid. But I had heard rumors that the foreign devils had taken one of us."

Ibrahim looked around at all the foreign faces and grew suddenly rueful of his gaffe.

"My apologies, my friends," he said. "It's a turn of phrase."

"It's alright," Indy said. "The Nazi's are about as close to devils as you can get without growing horns."

"But we need to know where they have taken him," the Doctor said.

"To what end, my friend?"

"He has information that the Germans are after. We need to get him out before they get it."

"We're going in to get him out," Indy said more plainly and confidently.

"My dear friends," Ibrahim said as an uncommon look of earnestness stretched across his face. "This is folly. I beg you to reconsider. I know it is difficult, but you must consider your friend lost. If he is strong he will prevail against the Germans and enter Paradise. If not... then let them have their prize and may your prayers be with him."

"I _will not_ abandon Sallah to Nazi torture and death," Indy barked as he stepped menacingly close.

"Dr. Jones, please," the Doctor said, staying Indy with an upturned palm. "Ibrahim, we don't need any direct intervention from you. All we need from you is information."

"Information? I have told you all I know."

"We're not interested in _what_ you know, dear Ibrahim, but rather in _who _you know. We would like you to use your contacts in the city to suss out any information, anything at all, on where the Nazi's may have taken Sallah. Can you do this?"

"My friends, it is folly! You are asking me to put myself at great risk of torture and death myself. Why would I do this?"

"Because you are a business man," the Doctor said as he removed his wallet. "And we can pay."

He removed a few small sheets of his psychic bills and set them before Ibrahim. Ibrahim looked as though he had been punched in the stomach as he viewed the "payment" before him.

"That is... quite a generous payment, Doctor," he said after he had recovered his senses.

"No, it isn't," the Doctor corrected him. "It's a very generous _down payment_. You'll get the same amount again if you return to us with useful information."

Another moment of silence engulfed the room as Ibrahim stared, slack jawed, at the Doctor's payment.

"How can I refuse, my friend," he said as he took the bills and stuffed them in his pocket. But before he did the Doctor reached out and grasped his forearm firmly in one hand.

"Ibrahim," the Doctor said as he stared intently into the mans eyes. "We can pay far better than the Germans. Remember that."

"Yes, apparently so. Very well, my friends, please remain here. I will return with information by nightfall."

Eagerly Ibrahim took the bills and stuffed them in his pocket. Without a further word he fixed his flaccid comb over again and stepped out the door, closing it behind him.

"How much did you pay him, Doctor?" Vranea asked.

"Not a clue," the Doctor responded. "I just set down the bills. His mind filled in the gaps. But, whatever it was, apparently it was quite generous."

"Alright, we should move," Indy said.

"But why," Vranea asked. "He said to stay here."

"Yes, and if he goes to the Germans then they'll bust down that door and goose step all over us. We should go. There's a roof across the way we can watch the apartment from..."

"I don't think that will be necessary, Dr. Jones," the Doctor interrupted.

"Why? You don't trust him, do you?"

"Not as far as I can throw him. But I trust _what he is_. And that is a business man. His interest is profit, plain and simple. And he knows we can give it to him so he'll be back. Trust me, Indy. I suggest you relax and get some rest. You also, Vranea. I suspect we're about to have a very long day and a longer night."

* * *

Indy and Vranea took the Doctors advice and put their feet up for the rest of the day. They sat mostly in silence as the days light waned with still no word from Ibrahim. As the day pressed on and turned to night Vranea would have lit some candles for them but Indy forbade it and the Doctor agreed.

"But why, it's getting dark," Vranea protested. "Before long we won't be able to see our hand before our faces."

"We'll attract too much attention," Indy said as he shut his eyes under his fedora.

"Precisely right, my dear," the Doctor added. "Three foreigners alone in a locals apartment is certain to draw attention. The locals will surely know that Ibrahim has left by now. I know it's inconvenient, but it's best if we leave the lights out and allow them to think the apartment s still vacant."

And so they waited, their conversations dying with the fading light.

It was well after dark by the time they heard the staircase outside their door creaking wearily under someone's weight. The Doctor was roused first and promptly nudged Vranea awake, who had fallen asleep beside him. Indy came to as well and readied his hand on his pistol, for safety sake. Though it was hardly necessary for who else should stumble through the door but the long awaited Ibrahim. He stumbled, through the dark and the trash, over to the table and tried to light an oil lamp there.

"What took so long?" Indy asked.

"The Germans covered their tracks well," Ibrahim responded. "I had to use every contact I know and even create a few more, but I know where they are camped."

"Excellent work, Ibrahim," the Doctor said as he slid across the table from him. "Please, what do you know?"

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I don't mean to be indelicate, but there is the matter of payment."

"Of course, my dear Ibrahim. Of course. How silly of me."

Without a further word the Doctor reached to his wallet and pulled out more of his funny money. He set a few more bills down on the table and Ibrahim looked at them sheepishly.

"Doctor, I'm sorry but I did incur considerable expense acquiring this information..."

"Seriously, Ibrahim?" Indy protested. "After all we've given you you're squeezing us for more? Are you kidding me, right now?"

"Now, now Dr. Jones, I'm certain his expenses were well worth while," the Doctor said as he pulled a few more psychic bills from his wallet and set them before Ibrahim. "Now, Ibrahim, if you please?"

Ibrahim greedily accepted the money and stuffed it in his shirt pocket.

"This information was not easy to get," he said in hushed tones. "But apparently the Germans are holed up in the town of El-Arish."

"Dr. Jones, does this mean anything to you?"

"This makes sense," Indy said, stroking the stubble on his chin. "El-Arish is a small port town on the east side of the Nile delta. It's a perfect staging ground. They can coordinate their efforts on the plateau and once they find their artifact it's only a three hour drive to the port. The town is small enough not to attract attention and once they have Crypt loaded onto a ship it's a straight shot by boat to the fatherland."

"Ibrahim, can you tell us anything else? Where in the town are they being kept?"

"Nothing concrete, my friend," Ibrahim said. "But there are rumors of a group of foreigners in a large abandoned house on the outskirts of the town. Some late night travelers have seen lamplight in the windows when all others in the town should be asleep."

"Where is this house?"

"It's on the north west side of the town. Not too far from the docks."

"Then that's our target," Indy said.

"So when do we leave," Vranea asked.

"Right away," The Doctor said as he reached into his pocket. "But you're not coming."

"What? But why?"

"Because I have a much more important task for you, my dear," he said as he emerged from his pocket with a silver Tardis key. "You are our exit strategy. I imagine when we get in things may get hairy. Right, Dr. Jones?"

"That's usually how it goes," Indy replied.

"So we may have difficulty getting out," the Doctor said as he set the key in her hand. "I can summon the Tardis to pick us up, but I need you to activate it for remote launch. Can you do that?"

"I'm on it," she said as she accepted the key.

"Excellent! Now, the activation sequence is fairly simple but exact. So please pay attention. First, pull the crimson lever. Not the scarlet or vermillion lever, the crimson lever. Got it?"

"Uh... yeah, okay."

"Good. Next, turn the silver dial three quarters clockwise and two thirds counter clockwise before pushing it thrice. When you hear a chime that sounds like a rush singing pump the grey handle until you hear a click. Pull on the dangling bauble while flicking the control switches in this order; turquoise, indigo, jade, auburn, square and myrtle. Now, this should bring up the command menu on the main view screen."

"Uh..."

"Go into the root directory and follow this path; -loco. Once there, enter cod 21 Apple Tango 873 Harkness 59 Raxacorricofalapitorius. And hit enter."

"Hit enter? That's it?"

"Yeah, hit enter. Easy peasy. Why?"

"That's remarkably complicated, Doctor. 'Easy peasy' isn't quite how I would describe it."

"Well, tardises were originally designed to be piloted by better than half a dozen Timelords, you know."

"Yeah, it shows."

"Perhaps I should write it down for you?"

"Perhaps."

The Doctor borrowed a scrap of paper, one of many lining Ibrahim's floor, and jotted his instructions down for Vranea. As he did he stole a look at Ibrahim who seemed utterly bewildered at the conversation he had just witnessed. Thus putting him in good company with Vranea, in fact.

"Doctor, maybe I should accompany Vranea outside the city until she reaches this _Tardis_ of yours," Ibrahim offered.

"Thank you, Ibrahim, but that won't be necessary. We have a car. We can drop her off at the outskirts and she can find her way from there. She's quite capable, as I'm sure you can remember."

"Doctor, if you please, it is fairly safe inside the city but far less on the outskirts. It is no problem for me..."

"I can handle myself, Ibrahim," Vranea said, cutting him off. "I'll be fine."

"Indeed," the Doctor agreed as he finished up his instructions. He passed them to Vranea who tucked them in her blouse. "There you are, my dear. Thank you for your help, Ibrahim, but we should be off. Indy and I have far to go and not much time to get there before dawn. We've dawdled enough already and have little time to waste."


End file.
